


Waiting on Us

by amescaryl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amescaryl/pseuds/amescaryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ROTJ, Han and Leia still have not consummated their relationship. Despite their eagerness to take the next step, they find themselves putting their love on hold while the Alliance works to secure the galaxy for the new government. Han and Leia are sent off on a diplomatic mission to the Outer Rim with strict instructions to keep their relationship professional. Will they ever get the chance fulfill their desires? (This work is complete.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Han looked across the tree bridge to the platform where Leia was surrounded by some of the female pilots, laughing and talking. It had been quite an overwhelming couple of days for the two of them. Not only had the Rebels destroyed the second Death Star, but Han and Leia had also discovered that Luke was no longer going to be an issue between them. Of course with that knowledge came the Vader thing, but they would deal with that together.  
  
Han could smell the acrid smoke from the fireworks mixed with cooking fires below, and he wrinkled his nose. A laugh rang out through the trees and he realized Leia and the women around her were giggling at him, at the face he was making. He shrugged and turned away from them when he heard Leia call out his name. He stopped and waited for her as she quickly crossed the bridge and reached her hands out to him.  
  
“Hey, general,” she said in the sweetest of voices.  
  
“Hey,” he returned.  
  
They stood there for a moment, silent, absorbed in their hands touching and their locked gaze. Another burst of laughter pealed from a group in the distance. Music floated from below. Drums and some kind of wind instrument, Han thought. He smiled and broke the spell.  
  
“You gonna camp out here with the troops, or you wanna come back to the _Falcon_ with me?”  
  
She lowered her gaze in mock thought.  
  
“I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise,” he urged.  
  
She looked back up to his face, and said with a mix of confidence and shyness, “That’s one promise I am hoping you’ll break.” She smiled self-consciously. Realizing her meaning, he sighed and mirrored her smile.  
  
Han and Leia had not been without opportunity to consummate their relationship. The forty-day journey to Bespin on the _Falcon_ had been their best chance. But Leia had asked him for time, and the uncertainty of his future with Jabba had meant that he granted her request… not because he thought he’d be back to pick up where they had left off but because he didn’t want to break her heart. But now? Now they had a future together ahead of them. And they both clearly felt the time was finally right.  
  
He guided her out of the trees and back to the forest floor. Just as they stepped off the last stair they heard a voice call out behind them.  
  
“Han!”  
  
Lando. They both froze.  
  
“Han!” Lando clapped a hand on Han’s back. “We’re headed back to the Falcon to carry on with the celebration.” He waved a hand towards the troops setting up tents just behind them. “Don’t want to keep the party poopers awake.” Lando was not so far gone that he was slurring his words, but his inability to regulate the volume of his voice indicated that slurring was probably the next step.  
  
Lando had a group of four or five men standing behind him, and this presented Han with a dilemma. If it had just been Lando, he would have copped to his and Leia’s plans. However, telling a group of men— _her_ men—that he planned to take the princess back to the _Falcon_ and deflower her, well, that was out of the question. Deciding to take the high road, he squeezed Leia’s hand and said, “We’ll join you.”  
  
When they entered the Falcon, Han moved to uncover his secret stash of Corellian whiskey while the men plopped down in various places in the lounge. Leia stood in the outer corridor watching them. She understood that Lando and his companions had foiled their plans, but she wasn’t as upset as she might have been. Han’s bunkroom was not exactly the romantic venue young women dream of when thinking about their first time. So maybe this was for the best. She caught Han’s eye as he poured a round of his favorite drink for the guys and gestured towards the bunkroom with her thumb. He nodded, understanding she was going to turn in alone, and blew her a kiss. She made a grabbing gesture, catching the kiss in mid-flight, and placed her hand on her cheek. It would have to do for now.  
  
When Han stumbled into the bunkroom several hours later, he found Leia in “her” bunk—the bunk she had slept in on the trip to Bespin. He contemplated waking her, but he knew that she would not be pleased with his current state. Mustering what little self-control the alcohol had not taken from him, he climbed into his bunk fully clothed and pulled the covers up around him.  
  
Leia, who had woken when he entered, quietly turned in an effort to see him in the dim light coming from the ‘fresher. He was snoring in seconds. He reeked of whiskey and smoke. Had they been smoking in the _Falcon_? That wasn’t like Han. But it was a party, after all, and they all had a reason to celebrate. She sighed, relieved at not having to fight off a drunk Han. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.  
  
Sleep eluded her, however. Focused on the next step for the Rebellion, she wanted to meet with Rieeken, and perhaps Mon Mothma, as soon as possible. She knew they would be shuttling the troops back to Ackbar’s _Home One_ as soon as the sun was up, and she wanted to be on one of those early shuttles. Hoping Han was out for the count so she wouldn’t have to explain her early departure, she crawled from her bunk and padded to the ‘fresher for a shower.    
  
Han had no clue what time it was when the sound of movement outside the bunkroom woke him. He could identify Chewie’s growls and barks but none of the other voices. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like someone had slipped little socks on his teeth in the middle of the night. He turned gingerly to look at Leia’s bunk. It was empty and the bed was made. She was gone.  
  
After a long shower and several cups of very strong kaffe, Han felt ready to look for his princess. No one on board had been awake when she had slipped out. He assumed she’d gone back to work, but given that this was the first day of a new government, he suspect she was knee-deep in meetings and other political business. Feeling wounded that she had left without a note or anything, he busied himself with the _Falcon_ and getting them all back to the fleet instead. The smell in the Falcon was nauseating. What had they done last night? His first order of business after unloading his human cargo was going to be to clean up his ship.  
  
As he arranged to dock with _Home One_ so the troops on the Falcon could transfer back to the star cruiser for the trip to Chandrila, he received a communication that General Rieekan wanted to meet with him as soon as possible.  He wondered immediately if this had something to do with Leia, as Rieekan operated as something like a father to the princess. The communications tech had no other information aside from the meeting request, so Han resigned himself to waiting until his own arrival on Chandrila the next day.  
  
What’s another night sleeping in my bunk alone? he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Han was disappointed when he finally landed on Chandrila and Leia was not there to greet him. She had said in a quick message the night before that she would try to get away to meet the _Falcon_ , but clearly she had been unable to. He sighed, suspecting that this was one of many disappointments to come in the next few weeks.  
  
Though Leia’s message the previous evening had been brief, she made it clear that the Alliance leadership was moving very quickly to establish a new government in the Core Worlds and bring potentially rogue worlds on the Outer Rim into the fold. Though he had pressed her for details, she had not been forthcoming. He hoped his meeting with Rieekan would shed some light on the overall plans.  
  
Han descended the _Falcon’s_ ramp into what he could only describe as controlled chaos. Troops disembarked from all manner of Alliance ships, supplies were being unloaded onto cargo trams, frustrated dock techs barked orders as this droid or that pilot crossed the path of a cargo crate on the move. After so many years of fighting, you’d think they’d take a day or two off to celebrate, Han thought. But this looked more like a mobilization than a demobilization. He shook his head and asked the nearest dock tech for directions to headquarters. The tech flagged down a passing troop transport and told Han to get on for it was easier to ride than to try to explain to him how to get there on foot. Han nodded in thanks.  
  
The chatty navigator sitting next to Han filled him in on the events of recent hours. The Alliance had temporarily set up in the Chandrilan senate with Mon Mothma at the helm. They were in the process of assigning other duties, but their main concern was that worlds in the Outer Rim not provide a safe haven to Imperial officers lest they regroup and strike back. Han smiled politely to the navigator and thanked him for the information. None of it was surprising, but at least he wouldn’t walk into Rieekan’s office completely ignorant of the overall plans.  
  
When the transport arrived at the local senate building, Han followed the other passengers through a traditional Chandrilan garden towards large glass doors. He stopped at a desk just in front of the lifts to ask if the information concierge could point him to Princess Leia. He scrolled through his data pad and then shook his head.  
  
“I’m sorry, sir, but I do not have her listed. Maybe she is working out of someone else’s office.”  
  
“How about Rieekan? Carlist Rieekan. I’m supposed to meet with him this morning.”  
  
“Yes sir. General Rieekan is on the 10th floor. You can access that floor through this lift here and the information concierge on 10th will direct you to his exact location.”  
  
The lift was crowded with both Alliance members and Chandrilans. Han wondered if the Chandrilans resented this sudden invasion of their planet by the entire Rebel fleet. A political people, the Chandrilans would seek to gain a foothold on the new government early on. They are probably _thrilled_ to be overrun by us, he decided.  
  
Stepping off the lift on the 10th floor, Han was immediately greeted by a very young woman who looked more Alderaanian than Chandrilan. He cleared his throat.  
   
“I am looking for Princess Leia. Do you happen to know where she is?”  
  
The young woman smiled and nodded. “General Solo, General Rieekan is expecting you. If you will follow me.”  
  
“Wait,” he stopped here to consider his choice of words. “Is it possible for me to see Lei—I mean _Princess_ Leia before I meet with Rieekan? She and I have some… business to discuss first.”  
  
“The Princess is in a meeting at the moment with Mon Mothma. Once you are finished with General Rieekan, I can show you to the Princess’ office.” She then gestured with her hand that Han should follow her down the hallway.  
  
General Rieekan was standing at the window to his office when Han walked in. He turned when the young woman announced Han, strode across the room in 3 steps, and clasped Han’s proffered hand warmly.  
  
“Solo! It is good to see you. The men are already spreading tales about your bravery at Endor!” he said enthusiastically. “We could not have done it without you.”  
  
Han ducked his head. For a man with self-confidence to spare, Han Solo did not take compliments well. “Thanks, but I didn’t do it alone.”  
  
“No, I understand Leia was wounded. Early bacta treatment seems to have fixed her right up!”  
  
Han nodded not entirely sure how much he should say about Leia in front of Rieekan. The man knew—must have known—that Han and Leia had feelings for one another. _Everyone_ in the Alliance knew. In fact, given the rumors he had heard upon his return from Jabba’s clutches, everyone assumed they were much farther along in their courtship than they actually were.  
  
“Speaking of the Princess,” Rieekan began, gesturing that Han should sit in the large chair opposite his desk, “I have a proposal for you.”  
  
Han sat where indicated, but shifted uncomfortably at the word “proposal”.  Damn, this is gonna be about us, he thought.  
  
Mon Mothma and I have had a long talk about the Princess and her future with the Alliance and new government. The Princess’ real strength is in diplomacy.” Rieekan began to tap his stylus on his desk as if to emphasize the points he was making. “She was trained during a particularly tense time of the Imperial Senate, and she possesses the rhetorical skills needed to persuade some of the more reluctant outposts to join us.”  
  
Blood rushed through Han’s ears, and he realized he was struggling to hear Rieekan. His pulse thumped through his head as he put together what the man across from him was saying.  
  
“Han, she’s going to need a top-notch security detail out there. She’s no stranger to dangerous situations, but this is going to be particularly rough. Those pirates and smugglers in the Outer Rim are a tough crew. Well, I don’t have to tell you that.” Rieekan looked slightly sheepish at the mention of Han’s preferred profession.  
  
“Sir, excuse me, but I don’t think I understand what you are saying,” Han interrupted.  
  
“We want you to go with her, Solo. Be her Chief Security Officer. Protect her. Take care of her. She needs someone she can trust, and _we_ need someone _we_ can trust. You are the best man for the job.”  
  
“But why send her out there into that… mess?”  
  
“I told you,” he raised his voice slightly. “She’s the best diplomat we have when it comes to negotiating with these kind of characters.” And then he laughed, “Hell, she handles you well enough.”  
  
Han knew he should smile at this casual mention of his and Leia’s very public banter. Rieekan was acknowledging that not only did he know about their relationship, but he was also willing to allow them to continue it. But how, Han wondered, would they ever manage to have a relationship within the confines of such public service?  
  
“So, can we count on you, General?”  
  
Han nodded reluctantly.  
  
“Good,” Rieekan bellowed. “I knew you’d understand. I’m going to send you over the Central Habiliment Unit. There you will meet with the Habiliment Supervisor. She will see to it that you get new uniforms for the trip.”  
  
“What’s wrong with my own clothes?” Han asked with slight embarrassment. “We’ve never stood on much ceremony before about such things.”  
  
Rieekan chuckled. “Han,” he started with slight condescension in his voice, “you are the new Chief Security Officer to the last Princess of Alderaan. You have to look the part. And that means you have to wear the uniform of a general in the Alliance. The Habiliment Supervisor will set you up with everything you need.” Rieekan patted him on the back in a show camaraderie that surprised Han then guided him towards the door.  
  
“I’ll meet you back here this afternoon to brief you on the specifics of the journey. Until then, I’m turning you over the Protocol Officer Drayson.” He gestured to the young man stationed just outside his door. “No relation to the Admiral,” he whispered to Han, “but you’ll be in good hands all the same.”  
  
Han nodded and forced a smile.  
  
“Drayson, he’s all yours.” Rieekan beamed one last time at Han and stepped back into his office.    


* * *

  
  
Leia sat across from Mon Mothma in stunned silence. They wanted her to go on a diplomatic mission to the Outer Rim. Why her? Were they trying to get her killed?  
  
Mon Mothma had always taken a measured approach where Leia was concerned—neither too distant nor too personal—it had made it difficult for Leia to assess the older woman’s true opinion of her. She suspected, based on her debriefing after her rescue from the first Death Star, that Mothma blamed her for the destruction of Alderaan, but the Alliance leader had never confirmed that.  
  
“It is, of course, an incredibly dangerous mission,” Mothma was saying as thoughts swirled through Leia’s head. “Your hesitance does you credit.”  
  
“Why me?” Leia asked with more concern in her voice than she had intended.  
  
Mothma smiled, “The leadership council agreed unanimously that you were the best person for the job. Your negotiating skills are top-notch, and your training in rhetoric is unsurpassed by any of the other diplomats currently available.” The woman paused, calculating whether or not to add the last part of her argument. “And besides,” she softened her voice, “a young, pretty face never hurt a diplomatic mission.”  
  
Leia blushed. In all her years as a senator and a member of the Alliance no one but a handful of older women in the leadership had referred to her age and looks as a means to achieve a goal. The men around her, it seemed, were either too respectful to say such things or too realistic to believe it to be true.  
  
“You will, of course, have the best security team we can assemble. Against my better judgment, I have given General Rieekan permission to offer the job as your Chief Security Office to General Solo.”  
  
Han? Leia thought. That would mean--  
  
Mothma continued, “Of course, as your Chief Security Office, General Solo would be working for you, for _us_ , in a professional capacity. There could be no fraternizing.”  
  
Leia frowned and lowered her eyes. Mon Mothma had never been a big fan of Han. She indicated this more in disapproving looks than in anything she had said outright about him. But this move seemed extreme. Sending Leia off into the wilds of the Outer Rim with a man she loved but couldn’t touch? This surpassed even Mothma’s capacity for cruelty—or so Leia had thought minutes before this conversation.  
  
Sensing Leia’s continued reluctance, Mothma softened her tone. “Leia, Carlist feels that you will be fine as long as Solo is with you. You know Carlist sees you like a daughter. He would never agree to send you on a mission he didn’t feel you could accomplish. And with Solo there to protect you…” she trailed off waiting for some kind of response from Leia. But Leia was deep in her own thoughts trying to work out what game this woman was playing.  
  
The older woman waited another beat before typing something quickly on the data screen in front of her and then standing up.  
  
“Good. I have requisitioned a new wardrobe from the Central Habiliment Unit for you. We can’t send you off to represent the new government in your old military khakis. The Habiliment Supervisor is waiting for you across the street. I have also requisitioned a Chandrilan yacht for you. We have a team retrofitting it now with the latest security and communication technologies, and, well, moving a few walls around to make it more suitable for a team than a family.” She scanned Leia’s face for a reaction, maybe a touch of joy at being handed a bit of luxury after so many years of deprivation. But Leia revealed nothing.  
  
Mothma sighed. “Leia, you are going to find all kinds out there. Warlords who want to be treated as royalty, and outcast sons of royalty who want to be treated as pirates. We are sending you as a Princess of Alderaan, the _last_ Princess of Alderaan. You will need to act the part to the fullest.” And here the corners of Mothma’s mouth turned up slightly as she struggled not to smile. “That means, you need to keep a professional relationship with your staff and develop personal relationships with your peers.”  
  
Leia winced visibly, but nodded in understanding. She was certain the look on Mon Mothma’s face was one of triumph. If the Alliance leader had wanted Han Solo neutralized, she had certainly found the perfect scenario in which to do it.

* * *

  
“I’d like to show you some of the details of the retrofitted yacht you’ll be using for the trip,” Drayson explained as they climbed into the lift. “If we get there before they finish, you can request any special modifications you think you’ll need while you are gone. After we visit the hangar, I’ll bring you back to the Central Habiliment Unit to meet with the supervisor. You have plenty of time before your security briefing this afternoon.”  
  
It hadn’t dawned on Han that they wouldn’t take the _Falcon_ on the trip. He also realized as the lift dropped toward the bottom floor that he hadn’t asked about Chewie. Did Rieekan assume Chewie would be part of the team or did he assume Chewie would stay here?  
  
Han cleared his throat, “Um, do you know who all is on the security team? I mean, I have this Wookiee, and I, um—“ Han trailed off not sure how to continue.  
  
Drayson shook his head. “I don’t think the Wookiee was included in the planning. Is that going to be a problem? I mean, a good Wookiee could certainly provide protection, but subtlety and diplomacy aren’t really a Wookiee’s strengths.” Worried that he had offended Han he quickly continued, “I mean, maybe your Wookiee is different.”  
  
“No, not really. You’ve about summed him up.”  
  
Drayson nodded. “Is he here with you? Should I give you some time to meet with him?”  
  
“Yeah, thanks. My ship is docked at the main spaceport.”  
  
Drayson smiled, “That’s easy. That’s where we are headed.”

* * *

  
Han prepared a speech for Chewie that put the princess’ safety ahead of both Han and Chewie’s needs. Chewie did not like the plan for him to stay on Chandrila with the _Falcon_ , but he liked the idea that he could reach Han and Leia in a day or so if they needed him. The _Falcon_ had sustained damage during the Battle of Endor, and Han felt certain Rieekan would spare some funds for her repair. The repairs would fall to Chewie.  
  
The hangar housing the newly rechristened _Envoy V_ was quieter than the one in which the _Falcon_ was currently parked. Han thought the name an odd choice given that the yacht was not an _Envoy_ -class shuttle. Still no one had asked him, so he waved a hand at the freshly painted letters just outside the entrance ramp and followed Drayson inside.  
  
“We are retrofitting her with all the latest security and communication technology,” Drayson explained as he waved a hand towards a mix of droids and techs who were assembling control panels and running wires. “She’s an as up-to-date ship as you are going to find in our fleet.”  
  
Han whistled. “Impressive. Who’s going to use all this stuff?”  
  
“We’ll send a protocol droid with you. And the rest of the crew is familiar with one piece of this or the other. I think you will manage.” Drayson turned towards the cockpit and Han followed. “I understand you are quite the pilot, General Solo.”  
  
Han scoffed, “Yeah well, a necessity in my line of work.”  
  
“ _Previous_ line of work,” Drayson corrected.  
  
“Right.”  
  
“You won’t pilot this ship. You have two pilots assigned to the team. They can serve as back-up security if needed. Your sole mission here is to provide protection to the princess. You are not to fly this ship unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand?”  
  
Drayson sounded as though he were pulling rank on Han, and Han glowered at him.  
  
“Look,” Han began. But Drayson held up a hand silencing him.  
  
“General Solo, I do not mean to be disrespectful, but your reputation precedes you. Rieekan has assigned you to protect the princess, and he has assigned me to show you the lay of the land, so to speak. Allow me to do my job so that you can do yours.”  
  
Han smiled slightly. This young man had nerve. When was the last time anyone had stood up to him besides Leia? He was beginning to like him.  
  
“Now, if you will follow me, I will show you the living quarters.” Han followed Drayson out of the cockpit and past the crew working on the updated technology panels. Drayson pointed to a large open space on the right. “All of this is the crew common area. It is basically the mess, lounge, and briefing room all in one. It’s not traditional, but it’s what we have to work with.” He pointed to a door towards the back of the open area, “That’s the galley. You’ll have a hospitality specialist on board to oversee the meals and cleaning. She’s quite a gourmet, but a great sabaac player. I’d watch your credits if I were you.”  
  
“How is she at Corellian Spike?” Solo said under his breath.  
  
“Killer. Just don’t play the strip version. You’ll lose your new wardrobe to her.” At this, Han laughed out loud for the first time in days. It felt good, and he walked faster to catch up with Drayson, more eager now to see the rest of the ship.  
  
Following a quick tour of the crews’ quarters—one for male and one for female and their respective ‘freshers, Drayson led him down the left side of the yacht to his quarters. Palming the door, he led Han inside.  
  
“I hope these accommodations suit you. There’s time to change the linens if the color or fabric doesn’t suit you.”  
  
Han shook his head, “These are fine.”  
  
“Refresher to the right,” Drayson pointed to the ensuite ‘fresher, “and emergency entrance to the princess’ quarters to the left.”  
  
Han raised his eyebrows. “An emergency door to her room?”  
  
Drayson sighed and turned to face Han. “General Solo, this door is to be used only in the case of an emergency. When it is opened, alarms will sound not only in the security apparatus on board this ship but also at headquarters. If it opens, you’d better have a good explanation for why it opened.”  
  
Han smirked. He could think of a lot of emergency excuses to open Leia’s door. But Drayson was stepping out of Han’s room back into the hallway and waving for him to follow.  
  
“This is the door to Leia’s quarters,” he said opening the door and stepping in. He pointed immediately to his right. “There’s your emergency door, so you will see that it opens to her private lounge not her bedroom.”  
  
Han nodded, but he wasn’t paying attention to the emergency door. He was fixated on the room. A circular lounge sofa sat in the middle of the room covered in gray nerf hide. Gods, what something like that must have cost. A snow white rug of some animal fur he couldn’t identify covered the floor, and the entire room gave one the sense of being in a soft but brewing storm cloud. White and fluffy on the bottom, gray up top. There was a desk next to a large viewport, and a holoscreen on the wall that could be seen from the sofa or the desk. Han tried imagining the blaster-wielding Leia he had become so used to relaxing in this room. He couldn’t.  
  
Drayson smiled at Han, recognizing that the pilot was trying to reconcile this new luxury with the years of deprivation so many of them had endured. “Do you think she will like it? He asked Han.  
  
“How could she not? It’s, well, I don’t know what it is. But I think she’s going to like it.”  
  
“Good, now, if you will follow me, I will show you her bedroom.”  
  
“By all means,” Han cackled. Drayson shot him a look that cut the laugh short.

  
Ushering him into Leia’s bedchamber, Drayson took the opportunity to lay it on the line. “General Solo, can I speak frankly with you?”  
  
“Please do.”  
  
“Rieekan has chosen you to accompany Leia because he knows that you won’t let anything happen to her, that you would die protecting her. But you should realize that part of protecting her is honoring and respecting who she is. Everyone knows the two of you are involved. But this diplomatic trip is not going to be the time to flaunt that. Allow her to do this for the Alliance. Allow her to play this role. Do you understand?”  
  
Han nodded and blinked. He felt certain he should have some pithy comeback to put the young officer back in his place, but he could think of none.  


* * *

  
By the time Han followed Drayson into the Central Habiliment Unit, it was well past the midday meal, and Han was starving. “Hey, Drayson, think we could grab a bite to eat before we do this wardrobe thing?”  
  
“We’re late as it is,” Drayson explained. “I am going to leave you with the Habiliment Supervisor, and I will return with something you can eat during the security briefing.  
  
Han groaned. “Fine.”  
  
“Han!” Leia called from behind him.  
  
Leia. Thank the gods he had finally located her, or rather she had located him. He stepped quickly toward her, but she held up a hand to stop him before he pulled her into an embrace.  
  
“You idiot,” she hissed.  
  
“What? Me?” he protested, pointing at his own chest. “That’s how you greet me after you ditch me on my ship in the wee hours of the morning?”  
  
“You said yes to their bodyguard scheme, didn’t you?”  
  
“Well, I, uh…”  
  
“Gods, Han. They’ve really got us now. You realize that we will be working together in a _professional_ relationship.” She glanced at Drayson standing near enough to hear their conversation, and then pulled Han by the elbow a few steps away. “Not just working together, but working together in _close_ quarters,” she whispered roughly.  
  
Han smiled and took a step towards her, “Yeah, very close quarters. There’s a door between our rooms.” She put her hand out again to stop him and looked around.  
  
“Why didn’t you just say no? What is it, 1, 2 standard months? We could have sent holovids and messages. That’s been done before. This will be Bespin all over again. Sharing a ship but with an audience and unable even to touch,” she growled.  
  
“Your highness, if I recall, on that trip to Bespin we had an audience of _one_ Wookiee who would have happily retreated to his own cabin to give us an audience of _zero_ if you had been interested,” he teased.  
  
“Stop it, Han.” She stamped her foot for emphasis, causing Han to narrow his eyes at her. He was genuinely taken aback by her anger. He thought he was doing something for her by saying yes, doing something for _them_.  
  
Drayson cleared his throat, and they both looked over at him. He pointed at the chrono on his wrist.  
  
“I’m late,” Han offered as an out to them both. “Look, we’ll talk. It’ll be okay. I promise.”  
  
“Where have I heard that before?” she sighed.  
  
“Wait until you see the ship. It’s gorgeous. You are going to love it, I promise.” He looked up and down the hall but the three of them were alone. He leaned toward her and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before she could step away.  
  
He mouthed, “I love you.”  
  
She rolled her eyes at him in response, turned on her heel, and walked away.  
  
“This way, please, General Solo. We are quite late now,” Drayson stated.  
  
Han followed.


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re late, General Solo,” the diminutive Habiliment Supervisor squeaked at him. “You’d never pass a basic protocol course with such a practice.” She shook her head and tapped at the data pad on her hip.  
  
“Sorry, I got sidetracked,” Han replied. He turned to look for some support from Drayson, but he was already gone. Great, Han thought. Some new friend.  
  
He turned back to the petite woman in front of him and studied her as he waited for her to finish with her typing. She was an old woman, or at least an _older_ woman, Han thought. Shorter and slighter than Leia, she had the oddest hair he had even seen. Brightly colored in reds, oranges, and yellows, she looked like she wore a sunset in her hair. As she turned to walk away from him, he could see she had her hair pulled tightly into a knot at the nape of her neck, the bun looking like the sun that had been setting across the top of her head. She turned to see him still standing where she had left him, “Well, come on, General Solo, we haven’t got all day.”  
  
She led him to a large capsule that ran from the floor to the ceiling. “Step inside please,” she demanded. Her voice was childlike, but her command of it was not.  
  
“Um, what is it?” Han hesitated.  
  
“An auto-tailor. Haven’t you ever used one? Weren’t you in the Imperial Navy?”  
  
“Yes, but they just threw some uniforms at us.”  
  
“Must have been the early days. Just step inside and follow the directions on the  
screen. The comp will do the rest. Oh, slip off your boots first.”  
  
Han complied with the boot removal request and stepped inside. The screen had him strike various poses as it ran laser lights up and down his body. After a few minutes, he was told to step out.  
  
“Good,” the sunset-haired woman declared. “Now for fabrics. This way.”  
  
She led Han from the capsule into a large room with cloth hanging from the ceiling as far as the eye could see. They rained down in all colors and fabrics. Han took a few steps into the room and then spun around taking it all in.  
  
“You need all of this for military uniforms?”  
  
She held out three swatches to him. “Your general’s uniform will be standard issue in terms of cut and color, but you have the choice of three fabrics. The only difference is in their stiffness.”  
  
Han touched each one. “They all feel the same.”  
  
“This one is the most popular,” she held out the middle one to him.  
  
“That’s fine.”  
  
“Now, underclothes. White is standard, but we have two fabrics from which to choose.” She held the two swatches out to him and Han indicated the softer of the two without speaking.  
  
“Good.” She tapped at her data pad.  
  
Han shifted uncomfortably. His stomach growled, and the cold from the floor was creeping through his threadbare socks.  
  
“Okay, next we need to talk about some non-uniform items. Is this the style of clothing you prefer?” she asked indicating his current outfit with a waving gesture of her hand.  
  
“Yeah, but, Rieekan didn’t say anything about extra clothes. Just that I needed a uniform.”  
  
“Correct. Rieekan placed a uniform request for you. You will receive two standard uniforms and one dress uniform.”  
  
“Well, I don’t need anything else. These clothes are just fine when I don’t need to be in uniform.” Han was embarrassed to say more. He had no clue how much extra clothes would cost, and he wasn’t exactly rolling in credits.  
  
“The Princess asked me to make you a couple of non-uniform pieces,” she began. “She said you lost some weight while in the carbonite, and what you are currently wearing doesn’t fit you as well as it should.”  
  
Han frowned. He liked the idea that Leia cared enough about him to buy him some new clothes, but he didn’t like what it implied—that he couldn’t afford to do so himself. The Habiliment Supervisor must have read the struggle on his face.  
  
“Look, General Solo.” She reached out and touched him on his arm. “Let her do this for you. She cares about you, that much is clear. Let her do something nice for you. It is just a couple of items. Giving you this… gift… will mean much to her.”  
  
Han finally nodded and said quietly, “If you think it is the right thing to do. Okay.” He shifted in his socks. “Yes, these are the clothes I prefer.”  
  
She entered something on the data pad and then asked, “Yellow bloodstripe instead of the red?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Always a white shirt or are other colors okay with you?”  
  
“I’m fine with other colors.”  
  
She reached out and fingered the sleeve of his shirt and then made a note. “What about loungewear?”  
  
“Um, loungewear?  That’s not really my style.”  
  
“All right. What about bunk pants? Something to sleep in?”  
  
“I…, well, I don’t…”  
  
The woman smiled at him with motherly concern. “General Solo, you can’t race to rescue the Princess in the wee hours of some night wearing nothing. You should have a pair of bunk pants on hand. Shall I pick out the fabric and color myself?”  
  
Han blushed a deep red and nodded. “That’s fine,” he swallowed.  
  
“Excellent. We are done here. Your new wardrobe, including the pieces from the Princess, will be waiting in your quarters before your departure. In addition to the clothes, there will be some other items included as part of the uniform—new boots, insignia, and…,” she looked at his feet, “socks.”  
  
“Thanks. Really,” he said sincerely.  
  
She smiled briefly before resuming a gruffer tone. “We’ve made up some time here. Grab your boots from the other room. Drayson will meet you by the outer door.”

* * *

  
Leia was leaning over a droid indicating where she wanted certain files on the data screen in front of them when she heard someone clear her throat behind them. She was feeling overwhelmed with the amount of organizing of information she needed to do before they left that evening, so when she turned she was ready to snap at the intruder. “What is--?” She stopped mid-sentence. “Dalia!” she exclaimed. “Come in, how are you? I am so glad you are all right. Where have her been?” The questions tumbled out of Leia, and Dalia smiled. The young women embraced in the middle of the office, and Leia continued. “Gods, how long has it been? One, two standard years? I can’t believe you are here. They wouldn’t tell me where you were, how you were.”  
  
Dalia laughed, “No, we were in hiding. It’s a long story. But one I am going to have plenty of time to tell you about.” She took Leia’s hands in her own. “They’ve put me on your security team for this trip. I’m going with you.”  
  
“What?” Leia cried with a smile. “Are you serious? But you don’t do security, you are a—“  
  
“Didn’t do security. Past tense. I do now.” She beamed with pride. “Following in my father’s footsteps. So, of course, I was thrilled when they told me I was going to be a part of your security team. What would our fathers think of us now?” She squeezed Leia’s hands.  
  
Leia shook her head. She had known Dalia her entire life. Dalia’s father had been her own father’s Chief Security Officer, a privilege always reserved for a male from one of the highest noble families in Alderaan. And now Dalia, a woman who should be on Alderaan cultivating her own noble family was standing here before her as one of her new bodyguards.  
  
“You cut your hair,” Leia breathed, reaching up to finger the blunt edges of the shoulder-length cut. Alderaanian women kept their hair long, and though Leia often wished she didn’t have to deal with the upkeep, she had never considered actually cutting it.  
  
Dalia sighed and shook their clasped hands. “There is so much to tell you. And the hair is part of it. But right now, you are clearly busy,” she let go of Leia’s hands and waved towards the droid, “and I’ve got this meeting to go to with some cute new General. Solo, I think, is his name.” She winked at Leia. “Still hanging out with that guy?”  
  
“I tried to get rid of him by freezing him in carbonite, but it didn’t work,” Leia grinned.  
  
“So I heard. Okay, we’ll catch up tonight on the ship.” She kissed Leia on the cheek and darted from the room.  


* * *

  
Han had a box of food on the table in front of him and was trying to eat it as quickly as possible. Rieekan sat at the head of the table shuffling through screens on a data pad, while two men Han had never met sat quietly looking through their own screens. Han, whose own data pad was dark in front of him, was still struggling with the “protocol” talk Drayson had given him on the way back from the Central Habiliment Unit.  
  
“There are some items of royal protocol you should follow when you are in public with Princess Leia on this diplomatic mission. First, you must never initiate touching her. Ever. If she needs your hand stepping out of a transport or stepping up on a landing, wait for her to reach out to you. Secondly, you must always walk behind her.”  
  
“You can’t be serious,” Han interrupted.  
  
“I am. Protocol demands that only another royal or someone with a similar title, even if an elected title, may walk in line with her. Everyone else has to walk behind her. Third, you may not sit in a room until she has been seated. Fourth, you may not eat until she has taken a bite of her food, and you may not drink until she has taken a sip of her drink.”  
  
Han rolled his eyes. “Can I visit the ‘fresher in the morning before she goes, or do I have to wait on her for that as well.”  
  
Drayson sighed heavily. “You mock the protocol, General Solo, but appearances are important in this matter.” And that is where they both left it.  
  
Han looked up from his box of food as another person walked in the room. He recognized her but couldn’t immediately place her.  
  
“Ah, Dalia. Good to see you. Okay, that makes the four members of the security team. We can get started,” Rieekan declared.  
  
Dalia smiled at Han and the smile triggered his memory. She was Leia’s childhood friend. Leia had lost track of her after they’d moved one of the Alliance bases and no one seemed able or willing to share her whereabouts. Leia will be thrilled to see her again, he thought.  
  
“Solo, are you with us?” Rieekan asked brusquely. “The itinerary is on the first page of the document we’ve loaded into that data pad,” he added pointing at the blank screen in front of Han.  
  
“Yeah, sorry,” he replied, turning it on. “I’m with you.”  
  
“Your first stop is Tatooine.”  
  
Han groaned. He debated briefly questioning Rieekan and then decided he wasn’t going to get another chance. “Why are we sending her back there so soon? It’s only been, what? A standard week since she was chained to that slug Jabba.”  
  
All eyes in the room focused on Han. The two unknown security officers shifted in their seats uncomfortably, unused to seeing Rieekan questioned on anything.  
  
“Han,” Rieekan pushed his data pad away slightly and leaned towards him. “It is important that you of all people demonstrate some faith in Leia. The Hutt clan on Tatooine have been very amenable to our overtures, so we need to strike while the iron is hot. They would be important allies not just in the outer rim but with other Hutt clans as well. Besides,” he looked back down at his notes on the data pad, “I detected a sense of awe in their communications about Leia’s killing Jabba. I think she is _just_ the person to go negotiate with them.” Rieekan cleared his throat and continued the briefing without interruption.    


* * *

  
It was dark when Drayson finally delivered Han to the _Envoy V_. Rieekan had wanted to meet briefly with Han after the larger security session to give the new Chief Security Officer a sense for his supervisory duties as regarded the rest of the team. “You are their leader, Solo. I assume you had some leadership training in the Imperial Navy. Now is the time to access that. You are well respected among the troops. You shouldn’t have any problem with this group. Just remember, lead by example.”  
  
Han thanked Drayson for his assistance and company over the course of the whirlwind day. “It was my pleasure, sir,” replied Drayson. “I wish you all the luck on the mission. And may it be without incident.”  
  
Han thanked him again, waved, and headed up the ramp into the converted yacht. The security team and pilots were sitting in the crew lounge. What Han really wanted to do was to go lie down until they lifted off, but he knew building camaraderie within the team was important and needed to be done sooner rather than later.  
  
“We weren’t introduced at the meeting,” Han said holding out his hand to one of the security officers who’d been at Rieekan’s meeting. “Han Solo.”  
  
“Park. Tibo Park,” the man replied.  
  
“Nice to meet you.” Han continued around the room until he had met all the men. “And Dalia. You are Leia’s friend. We’ve met a couple of times.”  
  
She smiled and nodded, “Good to see you again, General Solo.”  
  
Han started to say something else to the assembled group when the sound of Leia’s voice barking orders to someone or something broke his concentration. They all turned to see her striding through the Envoy V’s entrance with Threepio in tow. She stopped when she saw Han just ahead of her surrounded by the crew.  
  
Han’s mouth dropped open as he waited for someone else to make the first move. Leia was clad in the long, white gown of an Alderaanian senator. It was exactly like the gown she had been wearing when he rescued her from the Death Star. While her hair was different, the impression she gave both in the tone of her voice and the hold of her body was the same one of power and determination he had seen that first day.  
  
Gods, I’m in a lot of trouble, Han thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Leia sat on the gray nerfhide couch in her lounge, legs curled underneath her, a glass of wine on the low table in front of her.  Dalia sat opposite her curled in a similar position, fingering a pendant around her neck with one hand and balancing a glass of wine on her knee with the other.  
  
“Forty days!” Dalia gasped. “On that hunk of junk? You must have been furious with him!”  
  
Leia shrugged and reached for her glass. “Not really. I mean, it was his fault that ship was never in working order, but it wasn’t his fault that I was on it.” She took a sip of the wine. “He saved my life,” she said defensively.  
  
“Still, that’s high price to pay for a life-saving. Gods, what did you do to keep from going crazy out there?” And then realizing the potential answer to her question, she leaned forward, set her glass on the table in front of her and whispered, “Did you, you know, share his bunk?”  
  
Leia blushed and shook her head.  
  
“No? You’re kidding!” Dalia exclaimed.  
  
“Shhhhh.” Leia turned to look past the open door to the main cabin corridor. “I mean, we’ve kissed, but nothing more really.”  
  
“Why? Or why not? What stopped you?”  
  
Leia returned her glass to the table and sighed. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on. We had no clue who all had escaped Hoth. He was headed to Jabba as soon as he dumped me off in Bespin or back with the fleet. The timing just wasn’t right. Or maybe I didn’t trust him. Or maybe I didn’t trust myself?” The inflection in her voice was not rhetorical but a genuine question she had asked herself over and over again in the months after Boba Fett had taken Han away in the carbonite. “I nearly missed my chance,” she said shaking the memory from her mind.  “Anyway, here we are again, stuck on a ship for forty some odd days, and there’s no way we can—“  
  
Dalia interrupted her, “Wait! So, you _still_ haven’t—“  
  
“Haven’t what?” Han asked as he strode into Leia’s lounge.  
  
Leia’s eyes narrowed at him. “Get out, flyboy. You weren’t invited into my cabin.” She looked at Dalia and grinned.  
  
“Yeah, Solo. We can’t talk about you if you’re in here.”  
  
“So you’re talking about me, huh?” Han flopped down onto the lounge and put his boots up on the table, crossing them at the ankle.  
  
“Gods, you have no manners!” Leia said in exasperation as she reached over to push his boots off.  
  
Han reached for the open wine bottle he had carried in. “I thought you two would like to help me finish this off.” He started to pour himself a glass.  
  
“Finish? It looks like you are just starting it,” Dalia said.  
  
“Okay, so I might have opened one too many bottles at dinner. We have plenty of it on board. Might as well drink it. For a Chandrilan wine, it’s not too shabby.” He took a sip and smiled.  
  
The women did not resume the conversation Han had interrupted, so he busied himself refilling their glasses and making small talk.  
  
“That was some dinner,” Han sighed, rubbing his stomach appreciatively. “That gal can cook.” Both women nodded but did not take up the line of conversation.  
  
“This is a nice viewport for a ship this size,” he said pointing to the window on the other side of Leia’s desk.  
  
“I don’t know, watching hyperspace swirl by makes me kind of dizzy,” Dalia offered.  
  
Han nodded. The conversation came to a halt again.  
  
“Han,” Leia finally started, “do you think you could give Dalia and me a little more time to talk? We haven’t seen each other in years and there’s a lot to catch up on.”  
  
Han returned to his seat on the couch. “Nope, can’t do it Your Worship. Would like to leave you alone, but I can’t.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“Rieekan gave me strict orders that I am not to leave your side. Not for one second. He said, ‘Solo, do not leave her side under any circumstance.’ So, I’m not leaving.” He pointed at Dalia. “She heard him.”  
  
Dalia nodded and laughed. He did have Leia on this point. Rieekan had indeed made it very clear to Han that his number one priority was to stay by Leia’s side at all times. He was to attend every meeting, every speech, every ceremony, every dinner, and every ball.  
  
Leia groaned. “Haaaaaan.” She uncurled a leg from underneath her bottom and kicked him.  
  
“All right, all right. I’m going. But Dalia, if anything happens to her in the wee hours, I’m blaming you.”  
  
Dalia nodded and smiled, “Of course, General Solo.”  
  
“I’ll leave the wine. I’m guessing you’re going to need it.” He leaned over and kissed Leia on the cheek. He whispered, “I love you” into her ear.  
  
She whispered, “I know,” back in his.  
  
Dalia waited until Han was out of the room before she finished her thought. “So, you still haven’t slept with him.” It was more of a statement than a question.  
  
Leia shook her head. “He was too sick when we got him out of the carbonite, and then we headed straight to Endor, and then here. Was I supposed to take him in the hallway of headquarters?”  
  
Both women laughed. “Just promise me this isn’t about saving yourself because of some inane dedication to a royal protocol that no longer exists,” Dalia begged. “Promise me that when you do get the chance again, you will take it.”  
  
Leia cocked her head at Dalia. “Why?”  
  
“Because,” Dalia started in exasperation, “the chemistry between the two of you is palpable.” She shook her head again to emphasize her point.  
  
“It is hard to let go of the way we were raised,” Leia said softly. “Even though they aren’t here to disapprove, I know they would, so it makes it hard to follow through. Sometimes I feel like they are watching me.” She paused. “What about you? Have you had any lovers?”  
  
Dalia nodded. “I have. You know I was never a big fan of all those courtly rules.”  
  
“Tell me about them.”  


* * *

  
The crackle of the comlink next to his bed woke him with a start.  
  
“Han?”  
  
He fumbled on the table next to his head to find the comlink. After a few seconds he found it and replied groggily, “Yeah?”  
  
“Can you unlock your door?” she whispered.  
  
“What? Yeah, give me a second.”  
  
Han rolled out of bed and tried to get his bearings in the dark room. He fumbled for the light on the control panel next to the bed but couldn’t find it. He opted instead just to stumble toward the tiny red lights on the floor indicating the door.  
  
He squinted in the dimmed light of the corridor but smiled at the sight of Leia standing before him. “Hey,” he smiled softly.  
  
“Hey,” she grinned, noticing his new black bunk pants. “Can I come in?”  
  
He reached into the corridor and pulled her inside, slapping the controls to close the door as she crossed the threshold. He didn’t want anyone to see this.  
  
“Hey,” he repeated as he leaned down to kiss her forehead.  
  
“Hey,” she echoed, sliding his hands around the small of his back.  
  
He moved his lips from her forehead to her mouth and kissed her gently. “I’ve missed you.”  
  
“Me too,” she replied.  
  
“Wanna share my bunk? It really will be our trip to Bespin all over again.” He grinned but she couldn’t see it in the darkness of the cabin. He loved that during that trip to Bespin she frequently sought him for comfort on the _Falcon_. Not intimacy, but security.  
  
“Do you mind? I tried falling asleep in my bed, but I can’t. All I could think about was you in here.”  
  
“Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the bed and fumbling with the bedclothes. “Your virtue is safe with me, Your Highness.”  
  
She sighed. “I hope it won’t always be.”  
  
Han climbed into the bed behind her and arranged his body next to hers in a spoon. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his fingers into her stomach. “Nope, your virtue is only safe until we are done with this trip. Then…” he trailed off.  
  
She placed a hand on top of his and squeezed. “Promise?”  
  
“Promise,” he whispered.  


* * *

  
When Han woke the next morning, Leia was gone. He wondered briefly if her coming to him had been a dream. The faint smell of her on his pillow, however, confirmed that she had indeed slept in his bed. He lay on his back for a moment and thought about her. Them. When they returned from this trip what would she expect from him aside from the obvious physical relationship they both so clearly wanted. Panic rose in his throat. Would she expect him to marry her? To be a _royal consort_? Gods, him a royal consort. He laughed to himself and shook his head. What would Mothma think of that?  
  
“We need to do some reconnaissance this afternoon on Tatooine. I want to make sure we check out the meeting place in Mos Espa before Leia has to meet the Hutts tomorrow.”  
  
One of the security officers raised an eyebrow at Han’s use of her first name, but Han didn’t notice and continued. “Thank the Gods we aren’t meeting in one of the desert palaces. At least in Mos Espa we will have the benefit of crowds if something goes wrong. “  
  
“Do you expect trouble?” Park, the other security officer, asked.  
  
Han shrugged. “You never know with the Hutts.” He shoveled another fork full of food into his mouth and then stopped as everyone around him rose to stand. It took Han a moment to realize they were standing because the Princess had walked into the Main Lounge. All noticed the fact that he was seconds late in standing.  
  
“Good morning,” Leia addressed them all and then took a seat at the table opposite Han.  
  
“Sorry,” Han mouthed sheepishly when she glared at him for this lack of protocol in front of his security team.  
  
Sulla, the hospitality specialist, placed a steaming mug of kaffe in front of Leia and then indicated a buffet of breakfast items she had laid out for them. Leia thanked her and turned back to the men at the table. Dalia was not yet present.  
  
“So, how are everyone’s accommodations? Satisfactory?”  
  
“They are fine, Your Highness. Thank you,” Park replied.  
  
“Mine are a bit cramped, Your Highness,” Han said without looking up from his plate. Leia kicked him sharply under the table. He grinned, contemplating whether or not to call her out on her aggression. But he thought better of it not wanting to embarrass her in front of her men… his men… _their_ men.

* * *

  
When they landed in Mos Espa later that day, Han and the male members of the security team met with the Hutts’ representative, a former Zygerrian slaver. He escorted them to an audience hall built into the Grand Arena and allowed the men to look around, inspecting exits and potential traps. Satisfied, Han led his men back into Mos Espa and into a cantina.  
  
“Uh, sir, I don’t think we’re allowed—,“ Park started.  
  
“Come on, kid. I’m parched. A cantina brew will do all of us some good.” Han stepped inside. The younger men exchanged looks and followed him.  
  
Inside, Han held up three fingers to the bartender and took the nearest empty booth. The younger men slid in across from him.  
  
“General, are you sure this is safe?” Eyes all around the cantina stared at them.  
  
Han waved a hand at him. “Yeah, of course. You’re with me, you’ll be fine.”  
  
“But why are we here? We aren’t far from the ship. We could head back there for some refreshment,” the second man whispered.  
  
A Twi’lek female served their drinks and stepped away from the table. Han leaned across to the younger men and explained, “Look, everyone in here knows who we are and why we are here. Everyone knows about tomorrow’s meeting. It’s the nature of a place like Mos Espa. The flip side of that card is that if the Hutts are planning something, someone knows that too. And that someone will be eager to sell us that information. But we need to be available to them. No one is going to just walk up to the _Envoy V_ and say, ‘Hey I want to sell you some secrets.’ So, we sit here and wait for them to come to us in a safe place.”  
  
“ _This_ is a safe place?” Park mumbled, looking around wide-eyed.  
  
“Is buying secrets _ethical_ , General Solo?” the second man inquired.  
  
Han laughed and took a long pull on his flask. Setting it back down he replied, “No, but it’s efficient.”  
  
No sooner had the word “efficient” left Han’s mouth than a man shouted across the cantina, “Han! Solo! I thought that was you!”  
  
Han turned to see a greying, older man approaching him, his only arm already extended in greeting. “Bern!” Han exclaimed and stood to embrace the man, pounding him on the back several times with his fist.  
  
“Gods, Solo, where the hell have you been?”  
  
Han shrugged. “Busy,” he deadpanned.  
  
Bern laughed loud enough that several heads around them turned to stare. The old man indicated the two sitting at the table. “Who’re they?”  
  
“They’re all right. They’re with me. Part of my _team_.” Han laughed at the word “team”.  
  
Bern grabbed a stool and pulled it up to the end of the booth. “Bern here was the first captain of a smuggling freighter I ever worked for,” Han pointed at him with his thumb. “Taught me everything I know.”  
  
Bern slapped Han on his back with his one hand and said, “Gods, it is good to see you. What in the hell are you doing back out here?”  
  
“Got some business with the Hutt Cartel here.” Han paused and lowered his voice. “But I’ll bet you already know that.”  
  
Bern winked at him and matched Han’s lowered voice. “Been looking for ya all day. This is my fifth cantina. Thought I’d have to walk right up to that ship of yours.”  
  
Han pointed at the two men across from him. “Told ya.” He turned back to Bern, “What have you got for me?”  
  
“Nothing actually. All seems to be on the up and up. Hutts aren’t ready to make a decision though. Got some Imperial guys coming in next week. I think they’re holding out for the best deal. The group that’s going to let them continue their operations with the least amount of interference. I doubt your Alliance is going to go for that.” Bern shrugged. “But what do I know?”  
  
“So, the Princess isn’t in any danger?”  
  
Bern shook his head. “Nah, I think they just want to get a good look at her.” He winked at Han. “I hear she’s a real looker, this Princess of yours.”  
  
One of the security officers leaned across the table and opened his mouth to chastise Bern, but Han held out a hand to him and turned back to Bern.  
  
“You give me your word you know nothing? She’s going to be okay?”  
  
“So, it’s true about the two of you? You wouldn’t be so worried about her if this were just another job,” Bern leered at Han.  
  
“Let’s just say the sooner I get her off Tatooine the better I will feel.”  
  
Bern nodded and signaled the bartender for another round. “My intel says she’ll be fine.” He tussled Han’s hair, cackled, and turned to the younger men. “Now, what tall tales can we tell these two boys to set their wicks a-burnin’?”  
  
Han shook his head and laughed at the old man.  
  
“How did you lose your arm?” Park ventured impulsively.  
  
Bern laughed, “Now that is _not_ a good tale. Equipment malfunction.”  
  
“Why don’t you use a robotic arm,” the second man asked naively.  
  
Bern leaned across the table and indicated that the two men should lean closer to him. “’Cause the ladies don’t like the mechanical fingers,” he stage whispered, while waggling two fingers in front of their faces.  
  
Han laughed and shook his head. The two young men stared at him blankly.  
  


* * *

  
  
Tatooine’s two suns were setting when Han and his men finally arrived back at the _Envoy V_. Dalia looked on in horror as the younger men stumbled aboard. “Where have you all been? Drinking?”  
  
“Reconnaissance,” Han answered. “Sulla!” he called out. “You got a potion of some sort you can whip up for these two?” he asked pointing to the men sliding into chairs in the lounge. “Cantina brew got ‘em.”  
  
Sulla stuck her head out the galley door and shook it disapprovingly. “Yeah, I know of something,” she replied slipping back into the kitchen.  
  
“You’ve got some nerve, Solo. This is completely inappropriate. You are supposed to be—“  
  
Han cut her off. “Come with me.” He walked towards Leia’s lounge and closed the door behind them. Leia had just been coming out to see what the commotion was, so she met them midway through the room.  
  
“He—“ Dalia started again, but Han held his hand up.  
  
“Listen. Ran into an old friend in the cantina. He had some information to share.”  
  
“Go on,” Leia encouraged.  
  
“The Hutts aren’t ready to sign on with the Alliance. They’ve got some Imperial representative coming out in a few days as well. They want to weigh both offers and choose the one that will allow them to carry on with their business undisturbed.” He turned to Leia. “You’ve got to angle your speech tomorrow to show them that the Alliance isn’t just a good deal but a _better_ deal than the remnants of the Empire.”  
  
Leia nodded. “That’s good information to have.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for that.”  
  
“Are you serious? You’re going to reward him for that snippet of information?” Dalia faced Han. “And you had to get the guys drunk to obtain that information?”  
  
“You got them drunk?” Leia asked surprised.  
  
“Look,” Han protested. “I’m just doing my job. An old friend shows up to share some information with me, I’ve gotta give him some of my time in return. The kids were just along for the ride, and I guess the cantina brew was just a little strong for them.”  
  
Leia rolled her eyes. “Dalia, can you see to them? I want to show Han what I have for the speech so far.”  
  
Dalia glared at Han and left the room.  
  


* * *

  
“They won’t accept our offer,” Leia sighed into Han’s chest the evening after her speech. Dalia and Han had stayed up late with her while she had worked on and practiced the speech. Still, she feared it hadn’t been enough.  
  
“You don’t know that,” Han responded stroking her upper arm. “You did an amazing job today. They genuinely paid attention to you. I know, I watched them.”  
  
She shuddered as she thought of the Hutts’ large yellow eyes leering at her earlier in the day. Five Hutts had been at the meeting, current leaders in the cartel in this part of the Outer Rim. She felt like all of them had undressed her with their eyes, sticking their tongues out at her while she talked. They were disgusting creatures. Still, there had been some measure of respect for her. No one asked about Jabba, but the knowledge was certainly in the air.  
  
For his part, Han had never seen her look more regal. Gone was the smiling princess draping a medal around his neck, in her stead stood a white-clad senatorial force to be reckoned with. Her voice never wavered; her speech hit on all the points they had rehearsed. Han understood now why Mothma and Rieekan had insisted on sending her.  
  
“You did your best, and now tomorrow we move onto the next stop. All you can do is deliver the message. The Alliance leadership knows you can’t _reason_ with most of these creatures.”  
  
He felt her nod her head, and he leaned down to kiss the top of it. “I should let you go to bed,” Han said quietly. “You’ve had a long day.”  
  
“Stay,” she replied, running her fingers down his stomach. “I’m too wired to sleep.”  
  
He laid his chin on the top of her head and said, “Okay. I’m all yours.”  
  
“I’m counting on that.” She slid her fingers to the waist of his pants and untucked his shirt.  
  
Han tried to shift his hips away from her, but the weight of her body leaning onto one side of him made it awkward to move without throwing her off.  
  
Her fingers felt under his shirt and she placed her whole hand on his stomach. Han jerked.  
  
“What?” she asked.  
  
“Your hand is cold,” he lied. The truth was that Leia’s touch sent electricity shooting through his body. No woman’s touch had ever affected him the way hers did, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted her to know that. Her hand continued its journey up his chest and her finger circled his nipple. Han tried to control his breathing. Gods what he could do to this woman right here, right now. There would be time to show her, to teach her. Her fingers moved to his other nipple. Where had she learned this? She was supposed to be innocent in these things. Maybe, Han thought, she didn’t need all that much instruction after all.  
  
“Leia, the door is open,” he whispered.  
  
“Uh huh,” was her only reply as her hand trailed back down his chest to his waistband. Her fingers caressed the flesh just under his belt.  
  
“Leia,” he croaked and tried to shift again.  
  
“That’s Princess Leia to you,” she teased in a husky voice, her fingers exploring further south.  
  
“You have to stop this,” Han pleaded, helpless to move and seemingly helpless to stop her travels.  
  
“What?” she asked, fingering the muscle at his hip bone that plunged to a “V” where his manhood began.  
  
Han could feel himself harden, and he doubted his ability to control himself if she kept this up. Deflowering the Princess of Alderaan would be one thing, deflowering her on her couch with the door open would be something else entirely. “I’m serious, Leia, you don’t know what you are starting.”  
  
“ _Princess_ Leia,” she repeated.  “And I’m in charge here. I give the orders, remember?”  
  
He nodded as her fingers brushed his now full-on erection. His mouth sought hers, and he withheld nothing from the kiss, plunging his tongue into her mouth, endeavoring to savor every bit of her contained therein. He willed her to wrap her fingers around his hardness and finish what she had started, but instead she pulled her hand from his pants and brought it to the back of his neck. She pulled him deeper into the kiss. Han was one part relieved and one part disappointed. Enjoy this Solo, he said to himself. There will be time for the rest.


	5. Chapter 5

Leia stood in front of the mirror in her cabin and smoothed the deep purple Chersilk gown across her torso. The gold filigree at the wrists caught the light as she turned this way then that way, admiring her figure in the dress. It was floor length, but only form fitting at the top. It flared from her waist in fluid drapes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn something so stunning. To go with the formal dress, she had chosen an elaborate hairstyle that she had only just managed on her own. Dalia could have helped, of course, but Leia had been doing her own hair for so long, it would have felt odd to ask for help. Besides, Dalia was busy getting ready herself. They all were.   
  
She had butterflies in her stomach, a sensation she got before each speech. But tonight, there were no speeches. The butterflies were for Han.   
  
The diplomatic crew had spent well over a standard week visiting the planets closest to Tatooine--Geonosis, Dermos, Mustafar, and now Raydonia. They followed more or less the same schedule at each stop as they had at Tatooine. Han would take his crew out to meet the representatives, scout the meeting place, attempt to connect with a local informant or two, and then give the all clear for the Princess to meet with the local leaders. Up to this point in the trip, their contact with local people had been relatively brief, but Raydonia had requested that the Princess be available beyond the scheduled Alliance speech.   
  
Darth Maul had destroyed the main settlement at Raydonia some 25 standard years before. The Raydonians had since worked hard to rebuild not just their hamlet but also their population. The Princess’ presence indicated to the people of Raydonia that they had finally arrived. The fact that the Alliance had sent the Princess of Alderaan out to meet them demonstrated that they had finally grown enough to be worthy of the new galactic government’s time and energy.   
  
A state dinner in the newly erected Grand Hall with the Raydonia Council had been on the itinerary from the start. While this was the first formal dinner of the trip, she knew there would be others. Rieekan and Mothma had decided that in order to allow Han to stay close to her at such functions, he should serve as her escort. Leia would not enter alone. His rank as general made up for what he lacked in birth in these circumstance. It would be up to Leia to educate him in the social graces needed for such an event. So as she checked her hair one last time, her nervous anticipation was for Han. Or rather it was for the two of them. This would be the first time they stepped out publicly as a couple. They would have to walk a fine line between Princess and bodyguard and Princess and consort.   
  
Leia entered the main lounge to find Han in Dalia’s arms. Park and the others stood when she entered. Han and Dalia immediately stepped out of each other’s embrace.   
  
“Leia,” he breathed as he took her all in. The rest of the room stood frozen to their spots, eyes moving between the two of them. “We were just,” he directed a hand at Dalia. “I don’t know how to dance,” he finally confessed blushing a bit as he said it.   
  
“Dalia is certainly the one to teach you then. She was famous at the Court of Alderaan for her dancing prowess.”  
  
Han had a hard time reading the tone in Leia’s voice. Was she angry or jealous? He hoped neither. He had secretly been looking forward to this evening, to attending a public event as Leia’s partner, and he did not want to jeopardize the evening with bad feelings between the two of them. They had both ruined an otherwise nice time on several occasions already.  
  
And Gods did she look gorgeous. “Leia, you look…,” he searched for the word that would encompass all he was feeling and seeing. He decided one word would not do. “More beautiful than anything I have ever laid eyes on.” The young security officers shifted uncomfortably with this breech of etiquette, but no one could disagree.   
  
Leia dipped her head and smiled, embarrassed and a bit self-conscious. “Thank you, General Solo. You don’t look too bad yourself.”  
  
Han was wearing his dress uniform--a long navy coat with gold buttons, white pants, and black nerfhide boots buffed to a shine. Rieekan had awarded Han medals retroactively and those gleamed on his jacket. The two of them stared at each other, oblivious to all those around them. Finally Park cleared his throat and said, “We are going to be late.” Dalia hid a smile behind her hand. 

* * *

  
The Grand Hall of Raydonia was nowhere near “grand” in the greater scheme of galactic architecture, but what it lacked in opulence it made up for in charm. The trunks of huge trees formed a colonnade around the perimeter of the hall, giving one the sense of being both indoors and out at the same time. Candles flickered on every table and large iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The glow cast by the million tiny flames softened the face of every woman in the room and highlighted the frame of every man. Native flora was draped in boughs between the trunks of the trees and from the trunks to the tops of the chandeliers. Large colorful flowers dotted the tables.  
  
Han and Leia were seated at the table of honor with the Council Leader, his wife, and several other local dignitaries. The rest of the security crew sat a couple of tables over but close enough to come to their aid if needed. Dalia looked uncomfortable in her dress uniform as every other woman at the dinner was wearing a formal dress. Park tried to put her mind at ease by telling her she looked “dashing” in her navy jacket and white pants, but Dalia just laughed, shook her head, and thanked him.   
  
Leia watched Han carefully all through the meal. As a training ground for state dinners went, you couldn’t get any better than this one. The Raydonians were an easy-going people, and young.  Most of the people in the room were about Leia’s age, being products of the Raydonians’ attempts to repopulate after their destruction. So, while the setting certainly qualified as formal, the youthful ebullience in the room trumped any real ceremony. Midway through the meal she placed her hand on his thigh just under the table. “You doing okay, hot shot?” she whispered.   
  
“Fine,” he replied. ‘This isn’t so bad, you know.” He shot her a warm smile.  
  
She rolled her eyes. “This is child’s play compared to what we will see at Myrra.” Leia was worried about their visit to Myrra, the capital city of Akiva, but she didn’t want Han to know that just yet.   
  
“That’s a shame because to tell the truth, I am kind of enjoying myself. The food is delicious, and the company is better than any in the galaxy.” He placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed. She smiled at him but her eyes said more than her mouth did. They were the eyes of one completely besotted with the view before her. The evening was turning out just as both had hoped it would.  
  
“I hope you dance, Your Highness,” the young man sitting diagonal was saying eagerly. “We’ve assembled the finest dance orchestra on our planet tonight. All of the invitees have talked of little else the past few weeks.”  
  
Leia turned toward him and nodded graciously, “I do dance. Or I did dance. It has been a very long time since I have had the opportunity.”  
  
“I hope you will do me the honor of the first dance, Princess,” the Council Leader sitting next to her leaned over and said. “Perhaps your General could partner with my wife.”  
  
“Thank you, I would be honored. Though I am not sure we should subject your wife to General Solo. He did not…” Leia fumbled for a way to express her thought that would not denigrate Han. “He has not had the opportunities to practice dancing others of us have.”  
  
“Ah, of course,” the Council Leader replied, nodding in understanding.   
  
The conversation turned to the rebuilding of Raydonia Settlement and the efforts to establish an inter-galactic trade network that included them.  Dessert was served, and Han began to worry about the dancing portion of the evening. Dalia had only given him the most basic lesson before Leia had walked in. He wished he had thought of it sooner; he could have been working with Dalia in his cabin all this time as a way to surprise Leia tonight. He knew he had an out to avoid dancing with the other women present, but he _wanted_ to dance with Leia if for no other reason than to be able to hold her close while other people were watching. For some reason, the idea of that thrilled him.   
  
When the orchestra finally began to play, he watched as the Council Leader led Leia to the floor. For the first couple of measures it was just the two of them on the floor, but as the song continued more couples joined them. It was an elaborate dance, and Leia looked like she had performed it every day of her life. She was as confident and self-assured on the dance floor tonight as she was at the podium earlier today. He shook his head and wondered, how did I land this amazing woman? It seemed there was nothing Leia couldn’t do.  
  
As the song ended, the Council Leader bowed to Leia; she returned the gesture with a slight curtsy. This was something Han had never seen her do before, and he was pondering it when he heard an urgent whisper in his ear.   
  
“This is the dance I taught you! Go take her hand!’ Dalia gave him a little shove forward, and Han found himself walking across the dance floor to meet Leia who was being led off by the Council Leader.   
  
“This one I know,” he winked at the older gentleman. Extending his hand to Leia he said, “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”  
  
Leia’s heart beat faster. “Yes, General Solo, you may.” Her entire face broke out in a smile, and her brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Han’s entire body buzzed with the anticipation of holding her out there among the other couples.   
  
He led her to the edge of the other couples, fearing that he might bump them if they got too close. He turned her to face him, took her left hand in his right, as Dalia had shown him, placed his other hand on her hip, and waited until the music sounded right. Gods, we didn’t practice with music, he panicked.   
  
Leia smiled at him, realizing that Han was lost beyond this point. “I’ll lead, okay? You follow.” Han nodded.  
  
“Ready? Go.” Leia stepped back and Han followed. It was a basic step, and she incorporated none of the turns and flourishes the other couples were doing, but it was nice to be in his arms, to feel his body against hers.   
  
It was a long song, and once Han picked up on the repetitive step, he slipped his hand from her hip to her back and pulled her closer.   
  
“Excuse me,” she said in mock indignation. “A gentleman always leaves room for the Goddess,” Leia continued trying to pull back from him.  
  
“I’m no gentleman,” he replied pulling her closer to him, pressing her into him with his hand on her back.   
  
“Han, this is inappropriate,” she protested. “We aren’t supposed to be so close. This isn’t some cantina.”  
  
“But you love it,” he growled in her ear.   
  
Why was it his voice in that low register affected her so? She felt herself soften in his arms, melt into his body. “Okay, you win. This time.” She took a long contended breath. “You smell nice,” she said into his shoulder.   
  
“Mmmmm,” he replied. “I’ll bet you _taste_ nice.”  
  
“What?” she asked startled at his reply. “What is that supposed to mean?” She pulled back a little from him so she could look into his face.   
  
He winked at her. “You’ll see. When the time is right, you will know what I mean.” He pulled her back to him as the last measures of the song played.  
  
A long line of other young men asked for Leia’s company on the dance floor for the next several songs. Han stood to the side of the action watching her, drinking a potent liqueur that Dalia had handed him, as he’d come off from dancing with Leia.  
  
Leia appeared to make polite conversation with each of the men. She smiled at them, seemed to laugh at their jokes, and nodded as they tried to impress her with stories of their bravery or successes. But Han knew that he could snap her back to him anytime he wanted. He knew the Leia he saw out there with these young pretenders was not the real Leia. For the real Leia belonged to him.   
  
Dalia reached for the empty glass in his hand and replaced it with a fresh one.   
  
“You trying to get me drunk, Dalia?”  
  
“No, I’m trying to get you to relax. You let her lead out there. This time _you_ lead. This is liquid courage,” she said pointing to the fresh glass.    
  
Just as he finished the second glass, he felt Dalia’s hand on his back. “Go!” she said grabbing for the empty glass in his hand. “And remember, _you_ lead,” she hissed.   
  
Han just beat another young suitor to Leia, and she smiled broadly as he pulled her into his arms. “Your Highness, you are quite popular tonight. Clearly I am not the only man in the room with eyes for you.”   
  
Leia struggled to push him back a bit. “Well, I only have eyes for you, but I think I need to keep my eyes on your hands, General. I told you, not so close. It’s not appropriate.”  
  
Han relented and let her wiggle away from him a bit. “Let me try to lead,” he said listening to the music for his cue. She smiled and shrugged a little, “You got it.”  
  
He made it through the first part of the dance without any major mistakes. But as the second glass of liqueur kicked in, he got bold. “Show me how to do one of those fancy turns,” he said pointing to the couple next to them.   
  
Leia’s eyes flashed, “Are you sure you are up to that so soon? You’ve only just mastered the basic stuff.”  
  
“Try me,” he insisted.   
  
Leia stepped to the side of him and showed him where to put his feet to execute the turn. They practiced it a few times from the man’s position, and then Leia stepped back into her spot so they could try it as a couple. Neither of them realized that many of the couples around them had stopped to watch. As Han swung her around in the turn, applause erupted as their reward. Both blushed furiously and nodded to their admirers. The music ended, and Han turned to lead her from the floor.   
  
“Wait,” Leia pulled him back. “We can do that same step to this song as well. Stay out here with me.”  
  
“Okay, sweetheart, but only if we do it my way this time.” The liqueur had taken its full effect now, and Han was feeling warm and loose all over.   
  
Leia rolled her eyes at him, but stepped in close, sliding her hand past his shoulder around to the back of his neck. He bent his head to her temple and kissed her there. He pulled their extended arms close in so that they were in something much closer to an embrace than a formal dance position. “If Mon Mothma hears about this you will be court-martialed.”  
  
“Won’t be the first time,” he mumbled. “And you might be more worth it than Chewie was. You are certainly better looking.” His hand wandered down her back toward her bottom. She let go of his neck and tried to reach around behind her to stop his progress. “Han,” she protested, “holding me too close is one thing, touching my ass in public is something else entirely.”  
  
“Mmmmmm, but I love your ass,” he crooned into her ear with a slight slur.   
  
“I’m glad, but there’s a time and a place for this, Han.” Her voice had a note of exasperation in it as she continued to struggle with his hand.   
  
“All right, Your Highness,” he said slipping his hand back to a more acceptable position in the middle of her back and pushing her away from him a bit. “I’ll give you your public dignity. _If_ you say something dirty to me while we dance.”  
  
She laughed in shock. “Something dirty?”  
  
Han nodded.   
  
“Like what? I’m not—“  
  
“Like what you would do to me if I hauled you out to that dark garden we walked through as we came inside,” he purred into her ear.  
  
“Um, I would kiss you?” she offered hesitantly.  
  
“And?”  
  
“Let you put your hand on my ass?”  
  
He laughed. “You aren’t very good at this.” He twirled her around, the liqueur lightening his inhibitions as a dance partner, and then pulled her in close again.  “Okay, I’ll show you.” He leaned down to her ear and began to whisper.  
  
“I would find the darkest corner of the garden and pin you against the wall by your wrists. I’d kiss your neck first, and then make my way to that spot just below your ear.” He let go of her left hand and brought his right hand to her ear to indicate where he would kiss her. He brushed the spot twice with his index finger before taking her hand again and extending their arms out to regain their formal dance position. “I would take your ear lobe between my teeth and nibble on it just a little. You’d feel my breath in your ear.”  
  
Leia’s feet moved as they danced, but all other movement had ceased. Her eyes were closed, and the only sound she could hear was Han’s voice in her ear.   
  
“I would move my hands from your wrists to your breasts. Gods, your breasts, Leia. I would cup them through this silky dress. Squeeze them a little. Okay, maybe squeeze them hard.” He was speaking through gritted teeth now and the effect caused a moan to escape Leia’s lips. Han smiled at her reaction. “I would slide a hand up your chest and plunge it below the neckline of your dress, pulling you out of it so that I could see your breast in my hand.”  
  
The music stopped and couples around them began to bow and curtsy before finding new partners or leaving the dance floor. Leia pulled back from Han slightly. She was breathing heavily, a hand instinctively went to her chest to make sure Han had not indeed pulled out a breast. He smirked at the gesture.   
  
“Your Highness, may I?” another young dinner guest extended his hand to Leia. She looked at the young man and then back at Han. “Actually, if you will pardon me. I think I need a drink and a bit of fresh air. The next dance?” she offered him. He nodded and stepped away.   
  
Han held out his arm to Leia and led her from the floor. A waiter was standing at the edge of the floor with a tray full of the same liqueur Dalia had given him. He grabbed a glass for Leia.   
      
“Want to step outside?” he raised his eyebrows as her.  
  
She nodded and downed the liqueur in one gulp.  
  
“Your Highness, you’d better hope _that_ does not get back to Mothma. She’ll court-martial you for a lack of decorum.”  
  
“You can’t court-martial a princess,” she choked as the liquid burned her throat. She took Han’s hand and led him toward the entrance to the Grand Hall.   
  
Park stood to follow them out, but Dalia put a hand on his arm to stop him. “Let them have a minute,” Dalia said. “She’ll be okay with him.”  
  


* * *

  
  
The garden at the entrance to the Grand Hall was large with elaborate floral displays and hedges twice as tall as a man. Han took the lead as they exited the building and headed for the corner of the garden walls farthest from the building. The garden was not as dark as Han had remembered it, as the same candles that lit the inside of the building lit the outside as well. It would be harder for them to find a spot where they could not be seen than in the scenario he had whispered into her ear minutes before. Leia followed him without resistance, clutching his hand in anticipation of his making good on that scenario. Finally, reaching the far corner, Han turned to press her into the wall. Unlike the whispered promises, however, the garden wall was not solid but hedge. “Ow,” Leia exclaimed more loudly than she meant as Han pushed her into the branches.   
  
“Sorry,” he offered as he quickly pulled her back into him. “So much for pinning you up against a wall.” He rubbed the spot below her ear, “But I can still kiss you.” She leaned her head back as he bent to kiss her neck. She slid her hands up his back and pulled him into her. She giggled as he nibbled at her ear lobe.   
  
“What’s so funny?”  
  
“It tickles,” she wiggled a little as she said it.   
  
He went back for more. “It’s not supposed to tickle, it’s supposed to turn you on,” he growled. While his mouth was busy with her ear lobes, his hands slid to her bottom. Despite the heavy folds of the Chersilk dress, he could feel her roundness through the fabric. His hands could cup each cheek perfectly. He pushed her hips into his, hoping she could feel what effect being this close to her had on him. He moved his mouth from her ear to her lips and kissed her eagerly. A hand moved up her torso and rested on her breast. She smiled through the kiss and pulled back just enough to say, “Oooo, this was my favorite part.” He emitted a low groan before going back into the kiss and wrapping a hand around her breast. He tried to fulfill the promised squeeze, but she was pressing her chest into him so much he couldn’t get a purchase on her breast through the slippery silk of the dress.  “Leia,” he mumbled, trying to figure out how to change their position. “Leia,” he repeated more urgently, but she was not responding. Every time he pulled his lips from her, she pulled him back towards her with more eagerness. This is not going according to plan, he thought.   
  
“Touch me,” she finally managed to croak between kisses. Han, relieved that he could give up finding a way to accomplish the squeeze, moved to the neckline of her dress. He slipped his fingers into the top of the dress and attempted to slide them down. The neckline, however, was high enough that he couldn’t get the right angle to slide his hand in. “Han,” she urged.   
  
“I can’t,” he started laughing.   
  
“What’s so funny?” she asked, wounded that he was laughing in the middle of this passionate moment.  She pulled back from him slightly and looked down at the fingers he had slipped into her dress and caught the angle of his hand.   
  
“The dress is too high,” he was just realizing the absurdity of the situation and started to laugh even harder. There was no wall to press her up against; it tickled when he nibbled her ear; the dress was too tight to squeeze her breast; and now he couldn’t get his hand in to pull the damn thing out. “I can’t get my hand in unless you crouch down a little.” He pressed her a bit on the shoulder with his other hand to indicate what he meant.  
  
“What?” she exclaimed. “How is that… sexy?” The word “sexy” sounded awkward coming out of her mouth and she began to laugh as well. “So this is what it means to ‘say something dirty’?”   
  
He shook his head, laughing even harder. His hand still caught in the neck of her dress, his other hand on her shoulder. “No, this is how _not_ to say something dirty.”  
  
A throat behind them cleared, and they turned their heads to see Dalia in the shadows. “I take it I’m not interrupting anything?” From her angle, she could not see Han’s fingers in Leia’s dress; she could only see that they were in some kind of embrace, laughing.   
  
The two of them began to laugh even harder. Han slipped his fingers out and used that hand to grab Leia’s hand. “The Council Leader is looking for the two of you. He’d like to say goodnight.” They followed Dalia back into the Grand Hall and began the process of saying their goodbyes.   
  
  


* * *

  
  
Back at the _Envoy V_ , Han volunteered to take the first shift of the night watch, allowing the pilots time to sleep before their trip to Myrra the next day. Leia joined him on the couch in the Main Lounge. Having encouraged him to change out of his dress uniform, she admired some of the new clothes she had ordered for him.   
  
“I like the combination of the bunk pants and spacer shirt,” she teased.   
  
He pulled her down on the couch next to him. “I like you in my old spacer shirt. Where’d you get that?” he asked fingering the old, white shirt.   
  
“I kept it from Bespin,” she shrugged. “It was one way to keep you close after Boba Fett took you.” They both got quiet as the memory filled the room. She finally sighed and leaned into him.   
  
“We always seem to find trouble, don’t we, Han?”  
  
“Not always. We didn’t find trouble tonight.” He squeezed her hand. “But, yeah, usually, I guess.”  
  
She was worried that Myrra was going to bring them trouble. She had read the security briefing on the satrapy of Akiva, and their extended stay in its capital city troubled her. She had sent Rieekan a message begging him to shorten their time there, but Rieekan and Mothma both wanted to demonstrate to the satrap that the Alliance was committed to them. If the satrap wanted time to fete the Princess, they were willing to give him time. Leia worried about the political implications of failing on this portion of her diplomatic mission. She had no clue the real danger was not to her political endeavors but to her personal one.   
 


	6. Chapter 6

A trumpet blew somewhere just outside the hangar, and a small band of people rushed in through the doors, followed by a gleaming bright green protocol droid. Behind the droid came four Gamorreans carrying a sedan chair. A man was seated atop.

Every creature in the hangar hit the deck either on all fours or in a crouching position. Chins were pressed into chests in an effort to bury faces from sight. The protocol droid's voice boomed across the hangar, "All present who are not royal personages must bow before the Prince." A quick glance around the cavernous hangar confirmed to Han that the crew of the _Envoy V_ were the only beings upright.

I'll be damned if I'm falling on all fours, thought Han. But as soon as the thought shot across his mind, he saw Park out of the corner of his eye. He had bowed at the waist. Han followed suit, through perhaps not as deeply as Park had. Leia and the man on the sedan chair were the only two humans who were standing erect in the room.

Three quick claps—human claps—came from the droid's voice box. The creatures around them popped to attention. Three more claps, and they returned to their tasks.

Standing straight again, Han watched the man climb from the sedan chair and approach Leia. He was Han's height but much broader in the shoulders and chest. His was the kind of man who took as much visual space as physical space. The kind of man one couldn't ignore even if one wanted to. A flowing, blond mane of hair ran down his back. Shirtless, his bulging muscles shimmered as though he had been oiled. Wearing only a pair of bright green—yes, the same green as the droid—bunk pants of Chersilk, he looked as though he were dressed for bed.

Leia tilted her chin up toward the man, her head cocked every so slightly. Though Han could not see her face, he knew her lips were pursed and her eyes were defiant. It was a look he knew well. Too well. Han took two steps closer to Leia's back, ready to swoop her away from this man if needed.

"I am Prince Pate of Akiva," his voice rang out loud and clear. Han immediately recognized it as the droid's voice and wondered what sort of man would program his droid to have his voice. "I am afraid my father is quite ill, Your Highness, so you will have to be content with my company for your visit."

"This isn't exactly a social call, Your Highness." Leia's use of the honorific title rang odd to Han's ear. There had been nothing about this man in the intelligence information they had about Akiva or its capital city, Myrra. Maybe they shouldn't give him too much credit until they knew more. "I am here on Alliance business. If you are charged with making decisions on behalf of your father, I can present my material to you in his stead."

The man smiled a broad, shining, toothy smile. It hit Han that the man was young. Very young. Probably about to Leia's age. His bass voice and the sheer mass of his body gave him the appearance of an older man, but his smile told the truth.

His bright green eyes twinkled, but he crinkled his nose a bit as though something about Leia's suggestion was distasteful. "Nonsense. We will do this the old way." He emphasized the word "old". "We will have dinners and parties. We will get to know one another. You can present to my ministers; my ministers can ask you questions. We will enjoy ourselves. Behind every good deal are good food and good drink. and a good deal of it." He chuckled momentarily at his play on words then continued, "How am I supposed to know if you-your Alliance-are trustworthy people if we can't spend some time together?"

Leia shook her head. Han knew that shake, that was her exasperated head shake. He wanted to step in and take over for her. He wanted to show this guy that Leia was in charge, that she would call the shots. But, that was contradictory, wasn't it? Han stayed in his spot.

Pate dipped his head and smiled again at Leia. "Dinner tonight. A casual affair. Everyone in your crew is invited, of course," he said without looking at any of them. He waved a hand at Leia's white senatorial robe. "I'll send something over less… austere," he said condescendingly.

Leia looked down at her robes. "I—." But Pate held up a hand to stop her. He turned, and with the same clapping and crouching that accompanied his entrance everyone present paid homage to him as he exited.

* * *

 

Two packages arrived at the _Envoy V_ later that afternoon. They were labeled with Leia's and Dalia's names. The women assembled in Leia's lounge to open them. Han and Park insisted on being present lest the packages contain not gifts but something nefarious. The men shook their heads in disbelief as the women pulled out long sleeveless gowns made of transparent Zoosha in deep red and blue jewel tones. Sulla, who had joined them gasped, "You can't wear this! It's… it's see-through!"

Leia reached into the package and pulled out the Satyn undergarment—a long sheath meant to be worn under the Zoosha dress. "Well, this makes it a little better, I guess."

"A _little_ better?" Dalia breathed incredulously. "It's absolutely gorgeous. Seriously, look at this gown!" She held her sheath to her chest and placed the Zoosha gown over it. "I can't remember the last time I owned something this beautiful." Dalia twirled, and Park smiled. Though Dalia rarely mentioned her status as a noblewoman, everyone on the crew knew that she had lost just as much of a promising future as Leia had. Only unlike Leia, Dalia no longer had a title that meant anything to anyone.

"What's this?" Leia asked, picking up a small, wooden box that had fallen to the floor as she pulled out the Satyn sheath. Opening it, she gasped.

Dalia leaned over her shoulder and peered into the box, "Oh my! Is that what I think it is?"

Leia nodded, speechless. It was a punig stone—the rarest stone on Alderaan. Bright green, as green as Pate's droid, and in the shape of a teardrop, they were so rare that only royalty possessed them. Traditionally, they were given on gold necklaces to royal women upon their marriage, and then passed down from mother to daughter.

Leia ran her finger over the stone and looked at Dalia with tears in her eyes. "Can you believe it? Where do you think he got it?"

Han cleared his throat. "Mind filling the rest of us in on the significance of this?" He waved a disapproving finger at the stone and necklace.

Leia placed a hand on Dalia's arm to silence her. "It's a stone from Alderaan," Leia answered without elaborating. "It's just, I wonder how he got it."

"Lots of stones in markets all over the galaxy," Han replied dismissively. "You can get all kinds of things from Alderaan."

Leia looked at him and blinked. "You can? How?"

Han shrugged. "Lots of items were on ships and in other markets on other planets. Not everything was…" Han dropped the comment before finishing.

Leia nodded, understanding where Han was going with his explanation. "Still, " she said fingering the bright green stone, "this was rare even before." She lowered the jewel back into the box and shut the lid. She straightened herself up and smiled at Han. "So, tonight should be interesting." Han nodded his reply, unable to read the true meaning in Leia's face.

* * *

 

The men refused to ride in the litter Pate had sent for them, but Dalia and Leia climbed aboard and giggled at the oddity of being carried through Myrra by Gamorreans. The streets teamed with people, but the vibe was more anxious than busy. Han noticed that no one made eye contact, no one even looked towards the sumptuous litter carrying the women. Eyes cast down, feet quick; the citizens of the capital were not interested in the sights and sounds around them.

"There's something off about this place," Han whispered to Park.

"I've noticed. And this guy, Pate, I didn't see anything about him in the security briefing. It didn't even mention that the satrap had a son. Don't you think that's a little odd?"

Han shrugged. "Dunno, maybe. Maybe when they gathered the intelligence there was no reason to mention him. Anyway, keep your eyes and ears open tonight. I don't want any funny business before the Princess has the chance to make her speech."

Park nodded in agreement and the men returned to their silent walk behind the litter.

Han could see Leia ahead of him, sitting in the litter. Her weight on one hip, a bare arm out to the side to support her. He had never seen her wear anything sleeveless before. Had, in fact, never seen her bare arms at all that he could recall. He licked his lips unconsciously. Even from his spot several meters behind the litter, he could make out the slight definition of muscles in her upper arms, strength that came from lifting and loading, disassembling and reassembling. In other words, muscles well earned from her physical contributions to the Alliance.

His eyes left her arms and moved to the dress itself. Han was disappointed in Leia's enthusiasm for the gifts. He would have preferred that she toss them aside, declare them inappropriate or garish. But she seemed genuinely pleased and delighted with them. Why had it never crossed his mind to buy her some Alderaanian bauble? He certainly came across them often enough. Trinkets, bottles of wines, semi-precious stones. During their stay on Ord Mantell, he'd come across a hologram of Alderaan floating above a delicately painted stand. It hadn't even occurred to him to purchase it for her. If he had thought it through and decided that it would hurt too much to have it, that would have been one thing. _But it hadn't even crossed his mind!_ He shook his head at his own stupidity. And here, everyday I wear clothes she purchased for me, he thought. Every night I sleep in pants she took the time to request. Every morning I pull on a shirt she knew I needed. I am not worthy of this woman, he lamented to himself.

* * *

 

Han extended his hand to help Leia down from the litter when he heard three quick claps behind him. He turned to see Pate followed by the bright green protocol droid. The attendants standing around the litter, all of those but the Gamorreans, dropped into the submissive crouch that irked Han so. "All but other royals shall bow in the presence of His Royal Highness," the droid admonished loudly. Park and Han exchanged a look but bowed from the waist, while Pate stepped forward and took Leia's hand to help her down. Rising from his half-hearted bow, Han helped Dalia down as Pate led Leia towards the open palace doors, and the remainder of the security team fell in line behind them.

It was a meandering walk through the palace to the Banquet Hall. A minister had relieved Han of Dalia's arm upon entering the palace doors, so Han fell back in the line with his security men. Not having had the chance to investigate the palace before this dinner, the three of them took the opportunity now to survey it. The halls were labyrinthine, and the deeper the entourage walked into the palace, the more nervous Han got about being able to make an escape if necessary.

It was wholly unlike any place they had visited yet. The floors and walls appeared to be polished stone, while the ceilings were elaborately painted with what looked to Han like battle scenes from well before their time. Some of the hallways had floor to ceiling windows looking out on gardens or various menageries, while others were windowless and claustrophobic. Han estimated it took them a full ten minutes of walking to arrive finally at the Banquet Hall, and his stomach churned at the thought of their being wholly at the mercy of Pate to find the exit.

The entourage had stopped at the entrance to the Banquet Hall, and Han pushed passed Dalia to stand behind Leia. "You sit with me," he whispered. She shook her head and tried to whisper something back.

"Is there a problem, Captain Solo?" Pate leaned across Leia in a possessive manner to address him.

"It's _General_ Solo, and, no, there's no problem. I have orders to escort the Princess to all functions. This one included. I'll be sitting with her."

Pate grinned broadly, taking great pleasure in Han's ineptitude when it came to social protocol. He gave his long blond locks the hint of a shake and cooed, "I am sorry, _General_ , but court etiquette demands that the Princess and I sit at the head of the table, side by side as our positions are equal. You, I'm afraid, must sit lower." Pate faked a grimace as though the words embarrassed him, but Han suspected they thrilled him instead.

Han touched Leia's shoulder, hoping that he would intervene and put this young upstart in his place, but Leia only dipped her head and bit her bottom lip. Pate beamed, and Han stepped back next to Park. Those in front of them entered the long narrow room and made their way to the head of the table. Han and Park were seated as far from the "royal couple" as possible.

* * *

 

"How did you like my gifts?" Pate asked as they were seated under a purple velvet canopy with intricate gold beadwork. Pate's unbuttoned shirt slid open as he sat to reveal a hairless but chiseled chest. Leia averted her eyes and searched for the rest of her team instead. Twenty people must have been settled in chairs down each side of the banquet table, and Leia could just make out Han's bitter face on the left side near the end. Dalia, as a noblewoman, was seated to Leia's right, and it was a comfort to have her so close. Though Leia and Dalia had both grown up surrounded by such pomp and luxury, it had been many years since either of them had thought of such a dinner. Dalia reached for Leia's hand under the table and squeezed.

"Lovely," Leia answered, not looking at Pate, but still taking in the ostentatious décor of the room. She rubbed a hand self-consciously down her bare arm and turned to him. "Really lovely. Thank you so much. From both of us." Dalia nodded her agreement.

"And the necklace?" Pate reached out to touch Leia's neck with a finger, an intimate, forward gesture that sent a chill through Leia. She reached up to cover her throat and block his hand from further exploration.

"Too precious to wear, I think. How in the galaxy did you come by such a rare stone?" She tried to keep her voice airy and light. She didn't want her wariness of him to be too apparent.

He knit his golden brows in mock indignation at her question. "Surely, Princess, you should just show gratitude for the gift and not questions its origins. I expect you'll have it on tomorrow? Yes." He turned from her and clapped three times. It was the first time the crew of the _Envoy V_ had seen him actually clap rather than simply hearing it through the droid. Pate reached forward and grabbed his crystalline goblet. "Ladies and gentlemen of the court and other honored guests," he dipped his head towards Han and the security team, "let us enjoy this evening in friendship and leave all talk of the Alliance and the Empire and the future of our galaxy for tomorrow. I declare that tonight is about food and drink, fun and," he turned toward Leia, dipping his glass in her direction, "stunning beauty." He placed a hand on Leia's shoulder and handed her his cup for a sip of the wine. Though flustered at the gesture, she took it and drank. "Enjoy!" he bellowed with three more quick claps. And at that a long line of servants brought tray after tray of food and drink into the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Leia lay in bed alone, unable to sleep. The night's events were on repeat in her head like a bad holovid—over and over again.

Han had wanted to cuddle, but she had pushed him back into the main corridor. "I'm tired, Han. I just want to go to bed."

"I can snuggle you in bed," he purred trying to pull her close.

"Han," she whined. What was it about Han that made her whine? She whined with no one else.

"Okay," he relented, a wounded look on his face. "You go to bed, I'll find _something_ else to do. But it won't be nearly as satisfying as curling up with you."

Her lips curved into a smile because she knew that was the response she should give him. But she really didn't feel like smiling right now. She had so much on her mind. She leaned in for a quick peck, another obligation. But instead of reciprocating the token kiss, Han pulled her to him and began to kiss her hard on the mouth. She struggled against him. "Han!" she protested. "Stop it." Her lips were moving against the force of his kiss, and the words that came out were mumbled. The sound of footsteps coming toward them in the corridor made Han break away from her.

"What are you going?" she hissed. "Stop acting like this." One of the pilots passed them on the way to the back of the ship. Han waited until he was out of earshot.

"Like what? Like a guy who loves you?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "That wasn't love. That was possession. Property. Marking your territory." There, she had said it. The thing that had been eating at her all night as she caught Han's eyes boring through her every time she looked in his direction.

"You didn't seem to mind _him_ touching you tonight. Stroking your neck, giving you sips of his drink. That was quite the display, Princess," he said brusquely.

"Han, you don't understand." She struggled to keep the whine in check. "This is business. Politics. I have to make him _want_ to hear what I have to say, _want_ to buy into what the Alliance is selling. And to do that, I have to play his game. It is no different than standing in front of the Hutts so they can see the woman who killed Jabba or dancing with the young men of Raydonia. It's my _job_ , Han."

"So your job is to sell yourself for the Alliance," he spat.

Her eyes flashed at him, and her fists clenched. She couldn't ever recall being this angry with him. Not even before the evacuation of Hoth.

"You should know. You are the master of selling yourself for a cause." Her voice was cold and pointed. Not a hint of whine. His body jerked as she said it. Her arrow hit its mark. Bulls eye.

Han took a deep breath. "I'm going to bed before I say something I'll regret in the morning."

"You're going to say something worse than the 'selling yourself' comment?" she exclaimed.

He lowered his eyes to the floor. "Good night, Your Highness." There was no teasing in his use of her title. His voice was all business.

Now, lying on her back in her bed, she wanted to tell him he was right. Right and wrong. Right because she was selling herself. But wrong in thinking this was unique to her. Unique to politics. He sold himself as well. Not just to the Alliance. But to anyone willing to pay him. He sold his ship and his skills. She sold her name and her skills. How were they any different? She had never sold her body. _Would_ never sell her body. So she let Pate touch her neck when he asked about the punig stone. And she sipped from his cup during the toast. Sipping from the host's cup was standard courtly practice in royal circles around the galaxy. Han would know that if he knew anything about court. Anything at all.

And that was really the crux of the problem, wasn't it? With the war over, she would go back to politics, back to being a princess. She would go back to a life in which people treated her not as another soldier but as the daughter of a royal family. The _last_ royal family of Alderaan. She couldn't expect him to grasp this. He had never known her as a princess. In fact, he'd never known her as a senator. He loved a soldier and an Alliance leader. Could he love her as a princess? Could she trust him to love her as a princess with all the courtly etiquette and customs that entailed?

* * *

 

Han stormed into the 'fresher and turned on the sonic shower. He could smell Pate's palace on his skin. Feel it on him. He had to get it off. He scrubbed his face and his hair, rubbing furiously. He used twice as much hair powder as he should have. Anything to feel clean and like himself again.

After the shower, he paced. He didn't want to think about the fight. He hated arguing with her. There was a time early in their friendship when the banter was exciting, maybe even a turn on. But it had been a long time since he'd gotten hard from battling with her.

He grabbed the data pad from his small desk and headed out to the Main Lounge. Pulling up the security brief on Akiva, he read it again. It said nothing about Pate, nothing about a son of the satrap at all. He hadn't just forgotten it or skimmed over it, it simply wasn't there. Park was right; this was odd.

The door to the men's quarters slid open, and Han stepped inside. "Park," he called in an urgent whisper. "Park?"

A head lifted slowly. "Yeah?"

"Hey, buddy, sorry to wake you up, I need your help with something."

Park struggled to see the chrono by his bed.

"Yeah, it's late. Sorry, pal. Just meet me in the lounge. I'll make it up to you."

Han was sitting at one of the tables in the lounge, two cups of steaming kaffe in front of him when Park shuffled in. Han pushed one of the cups to him.

"So, I've gone through the security briefing again. We didn't just miss the info about this guy Pate, there's nothing here about him. So I need your help finding something on him." Han pushed the data pad across the table to Park. "You guys are better with this stuff than I am," he waved a hand at the data pad. "You get yourself in trouble, me and my blaster can get you out of it. But I can't research my way out of trouble."

Park, picked up the data pad and began to key in some words. Han sat back in his chair with the kaffe and waited. The ship was quiet as only the air circulation systems were engaged in the hangar. Park yawned occasionally as he read, but aside from that, there was little on which to focus while Han waited for Park to finish his research.

"Wait, here's something. It's from the Imperial News Agency. It's old, but that's definitely Pate standing next to the satrap." Park sucked at his teeth as he read. "Gods," he said shaking his head. "I wonder why none of this was in the briefing."

Han drummed his fingers on the table while waiting for Park to pass the data pad back to him. "How bad is it?"

"Bad," Park replied without looking up.

* * *

 

Han paced the corridor waiting for Leia to come out of her quarters. He didn't want to confront her in her own space after last night. Being in there gave her the upper hand. His plan was to pull her into his own quarters before she could protest. But he needed to grab her before anyone else saw them. As her door finally slid open, he made his move.

"I need to talk to you," he said grabbing for her arm. She recoiled, a move that told him she was not over their argument from the previous night.

"I don't want to start my day off with a continuation of last night's fight, Han."

"No, me neither. This isn't about that." He paused, searching for a way to broach the subject that would get her attention. "I mean, it's about that, but not an argument. Park found some more information, and I just think you should hear it."

Leia sighed. She looked as exhausted as Han felt. "Fine, tell me."

"Not out here," he replied. "Come to my quarters."

She rolled her eyes at this demand, but followed him. Han indicated she should sit on his bed, while he grabbed the data pad from his desk.

"Okay," he readied himself, hoping that he could present this information in a way that she would take seriously. "Park did some research last night and there is some information about the satrap, Pate, Myrra, and, well, Akiva, that wasn't in the security briefing. We're not sure why it was left out, maybe Rieekan didn't think it was important, or maybe Rieekan's people just didn't dig deep enough to find this, but…," Han faltered.

"Yes?" she said with more than a hint of exasperation.

Han took up pacing again. "The satrap has a harem. By all accounts a large harem. Pate is the eldest son of the satrap's only legitimate wife. But the satrap has at least fifty concubines. You know, women he sleeps with—"

"I know what a concubine is, Han," Leia rolled her eyes at him yet again and motioned for him to speed it up.

"Well, the children of these concubines are placed into servitude in the palace and other royal venues around the planet. So basically, the satrap enslaves his own kids. Except those of his legal wife."

"And?" Leia asked.

"And they live in fear of him. The satrap that is. In fear that their position of service might be a terrible one instead of a comfortable one like serving the women in the harem or taking care of the gardens."

"And where were all these fearful children last night? We spent hours at the palace, I didn't see any cowering children."

"Everyone here cowers! How can you say that?" She wasn't getting it, and Han was beginning to panic.

"Yes, of course, servants bow in reverence. I mean, where is the multitude of the satrap's children?"

Han shrugged. "You've got me. You can read the article yourself. I'm not making this up. Maybe you should ask Pate. They'd be his siblings." Han paused and let the weight of that sink in. "I mean, what kind of guy stands by and watches his siblings work in service to him?"

Leia lowered her head and stared at the floor. So many of the people who had served her family were related to them. It was an honor to serve the royal family no matter your own birth. This was just one more aspect of royalty Han would never understand.

Leia shook her head. "I don't understand what this has to do with the Alliance or my presentations to Pate and his ministers. Why should I care how they organize their society? The Alliance is looking for member states not to reform the societies of those members."

Han threw his hands up in exasperation. "I just want you to see this guy for what he really is. A guy who enslaves his siblings. A guy who strikes fear in his people… or his father's people. A guy who _rules_ with fear."

"Fine, I see that." She stood to leave the room.

"Leia, don't go yet" Han pleaded with her. "Look," he said stepping closer to her. She stood her ground and let him approach. He reached out and took her hand, holding it for a split second before he spoke. "I don't trust him. I told you that. And I know you need to give them the same presentation you've given the others. And I know that you are feeling the pressure to get this guy in particular to say yes to the Alliance. I just… want you to be safe." He paused and lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "I love you, Leia."

"I know that. And I love you too. I just don't get what all the drama is about with you and this guy. He's just another prince. He does things the old way with lavish courtly rituals and a culture you just don't understand. That doesn't make him a bad guy, Han," she squeezed his hand though she did not smile as she might have. "And it's kind of nice to be reminded of those old rituals. If I had known they would become extinct, I would have enjoyed them more as a child."

"But he's playing to you, Leia. Can't you see that? It's a show, an act, to lure you in."

Now she laughed, "Lure me into what exactly?"

"I don't know yet," he replied honestly.

"Han," her voice dripped with condescension now, "I think you've been watching too many holovids. Besides, I'm a big girl, Han. I can take care of myself. I've dealt with men like Pate before. "

* * *

 

Han and Park were following the litter again, having sent the third security officer to a local watering hole in search of some more information. Pate had invited both women to tour his extensive gardens that afternoon, and while the postponement of meetings yet again made the security team wary, the women were thoroughly enjoying Pate's continued feting of them.

"So she didn't believe you?" Park asked in response to Han's retelling of the morning's conversation.

Myrra was hot and humid, and all the walking outdoors in his general's uniform was making Han more uncomfortable and more agitated than usual. Han let out a low growl. "Gods, she can be so stubborn. She thinks it all sounds perfectly normal. As though enslaving your brother or sister is the natural thing to do."

"Does she even have siblings? Maybe she just can't empathize," Park offered.

Han shook his head, unsure how to answer. They hadn't talked about Luke at all on this trip nor had he mentioned the topic of her father. So much was still up in the air. If he really thought about it, he couldn't blame her for wanting this little escape from her current life. "Let's just keep our eyes and ears open. I don't want to push her on this. Pate seems keen to keep Dalia close as well, and I trust Dalia not to make any stupid mistakes. And we will always be a few steps away from both of them. We just need to make sure we stay one step ahead of any plans Pate might have."

Park nodded in agreement, and the men fell silent until they arrived at the palace.

* * *

 

Leia stood in the garden in stunned silence, mouth hanging open, eyes wide with wonder. Everywhere she turned the trees, plants, and flowers were from Alerderaan.

"But how? Why?" she stammered quietly.

Pate beamed at her but played coy. "My royal gardener is very good. We have gardens that represent several different planets. Not just from the Core Worlds but the Mid and Outer Rim as well. But I knew this garden would be of particular interest to you."

"Is it all real?" she breathed.

Pate's laugh echoed off the garden walls. "Yes, of course! As real as you can get. Here, try this." He pulled a piece of bluish fruit from a tree branch and handed it to her.

"Moon fruit," she coddled it in her hand. "I can't remember… well, yes, I can actually. The morning before I left for Coruscant the last time. I had it for breakfast with my father." She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned to look for Dalia.

Dalia had moved to stand with Han and Park by the garden gate. She seemed overwhelmed at the revelation of this hidden Alderaanian garden wary of getting too close to any of it. "How do you think he managed such a thing," she asked Han.

Han thought for a moment before answering. "Seed dealers, maybe? I'm sure there were Alderaanians who lived on other planets who had created gardens from their home planet. Once Alderaan had been… well, after everything, these seeds and plants would have fetched a high price."

All three of them watched as Leia bit into the moon fruit. Her chin dropped to her chest as she chewed. Pate took a step closer to her and reached for her shoulder. Han jerked forward without realizing he had done it and walked toward them. Pate's eyes met Han's as he cooed something comforting to the Princess. Han was still too far from them to hear what he had said, but he had had enough of this display.

"You've had a long day already, Your Highness. And you need to prepare for your presentation tomorrow. Let's get you out of this heat and back to the ship where you can cool off." Han tried not to emphasize the words "cool off", but he wasn't sure he had succeeded. Leia nodded without looking at him and turned to face Pate.

"Thank you for this," she whispered. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."


	8. Chapter 8

 

The security team was standing in the back of the main audience chamber in Pate's palace, watching Leia deliver her Alliance speech for the fourth time that day. The fourth member of his team, whose name Han could never remember, returned the previous day from a couple of the local cantinas with only snippets of information. Han and Park had stayed up half the night again trying to piece it all together.

Their current best guess was that the satrap, technically an appointed governor, had spent most of his life living more like a king. The Empire, not eager to make more enemies in the Outer Rim, had basically ignored his usurpation of the governorship and allowed him to continue to rule as he saw fit. The satrap had groomed Pate as his heir from the time he was very young. But the timing of the succession seemed to be a problem. Some quietly speculated to the Alliance security officer that Pate was tired of living in his father's harem and eager to start his own. No one had seen his father in months, and the last time he was seen, he was in perfect health. To add to the intrigue, no one had been allowed into the satrap's harem in months. The reluctant informant agreed that access to the harem had always been limited, that being the nature of a harem, but the complete silence from those quarters disturbed many in the city.

Using this information, the security team had deduced that Pate's request for Leia to present to four different groups of ministers today was his attempt to keep certain factions in his palace from running into one another. The potential conspiracy was exhausting to think about, and even more draining for Leia who had to jump through Pate's hoops if she ever wanted to get around to the business of the Alliance.

"Dalia, what did you make of that garden yesterday?" Han leaned toward her and whispered. Leia had avoided Han for most of the previous afternoon and evening, keeping Dalia close instead. Han had yet to gather her opinion on the matter.

Dalia pursed her lips in thought. "I think there was something calculated in showing her that. Not that I think he grew that for her or anything. But he is going out of his way to demonstrate to Leia that he 'gets it'. The problem is, of course, that he doesn't 'get it' at all."

Han smirked a little at her last remark.

Dalia narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't really think you get it either, Solo, so you can wipe that smirk off your face."

Han did as suggested and returned his gaze to Leia, clad in her white senatorial robes, voice as strong that afternoon as it was when she had begun that morning. He was so proud of her fierceness and her stamina he could burst. So why was it he couldn't tell her that. Why was it that every time he'd tried to tell her something since they arrived on this forsaken planet they'd ended up in a fight?

* * *

 

Leia ate in her quarters that night rather than with the crew. Han was slightly surprised that Pate hadn't invited her to dine. Then he realized that maybe Pate had asked and Leia had declined. Either way, Han was relieved to know that she was safe for now.

Not having slept a full night in the past two, Han did not hang out with his crew after dinner, but headed for his bunk. Sleep—a deep sleep—eluded him, and he realized that every time he drifted off, some image of Leia woke him.

Leia.

He wondered how she would react if he went to her right now. Not to fight, not as a jealous lover, but as her partner. Someone she could count on. He sighed to himself. I'm not sure I've been the guy she could count on for the past couple of days. He decided to give it a try, hoping that in a sleepy stupor, she would not resist his attempts at being close.

"Han, is that you?" Leia asked fumbling for the lights on the control panel.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied softly. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed to be close to you for a minute."

"Han, I'm sleeping!" she said with more emotion than she had intended. She punctuated the sleeping part by flopping back onto her pillow.

"Can I lie down just for a minute? I promise, no funny stuff."

"Come on. Just for a minute." she said patting the bed next to her. Her voice was deep and husky from sleep, and Han had to start a running dialogue with himself to keep from breaking his "no funny stuff" promise.

Han pulled her to him, but she didn't melt into him as she usually did. "What's the matter?"

"You're kidding right? You've spent the past several days telling me all the things I've done wrong and now you want to know what's the matter?" In truth, she missed sleeping with Han, and she was glad he had come to her even in the middle of the night. But she couldn't shake all the negativity they had exchanged the past several days.

"Shhhhhh," he whispered into her long, loose braid. "I don't want to fight."

She sighed heavily. "Then let me do my job."

"I am letting you do your job. You were amazing up there today. Simply amazing." He gave her a little squeeze around the middle.

She turned to face Han. "Really? You really think so? I felt off somehow."

Han smiled to himself. Be her partner, Solo, not her biggest critic. "Not off at all. Perfect. As always."

She lifted a hand to his cheek and rubbed the stubble growing there. Her thumb grazed his lips and he kissed it.

"Han?"

"Hmm."

"Are you jealous of Pate?" Her voice was soft and fluid. There was no edge to it. No clear agenda to her question.

"I'm sorry about a couple of night ago. I just—"

"You aren't answering the question." She continued softly moving her thumb over his lips.

Han buried his face in Leia's neck trying to think of a way to answer this that would be honest but not inflammatory.

"I am not jealous of what Pate has, but I am jealous of what he can offer you," he mumbled into her collarbone.

Leia ran her hands through Han's hair and kissed his head.

"And I'm jealous when you give him little pieces of you," he added.

"Like what?" Her voice continued softly but an edge was creeping in.

"Your sexy laugh, for example." He whispered into her ear.

"My what?" she laughed at his comment.

"You have this deep, throaty laugh sometimes. The kind of laugh that makes every male head in the room turn to look for its owner. But I've only ever heard you laugh like that with me." His voice was still such a whisper, like a confession he didn't want anyone to hear.

She pulled his face from her neck and tried to focus on his eyes in the dim light of the room. "Han, look at me. When I laugh like that with you, my thighs flame up. When I laugh like that with someone else, it is an act. Can you understand that?"

Han's answer came in the form of a crushing kiss. He pushed her back down on the bed, and pinned her underneath him. Unlike the battle of wills the other night, she gave into him immediately. She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him into her, even sliding a leg up his thigh to wrap around his back. It was passion they both had pent up since arriving in Myrra.

Gods, I could take her right now, Han thought.

Pulling back from the kiss, he let his fingers slip under the straps of her Satyn camisole to pull the silk cord off her shoulder. His lips followed the movement of his fingers as Leia arched her chest toward him. His other hand slid down her torso to her hips, but he halted there, unsure how to proceed.

He lifted his head from her shoulder to read her eyes. They were wide and unsure, so he slid his hand back toward her breasts. "I can finally get my squeeze in," he growled with that half smile she found both endearing and unnerving in equal measures.

She breathed heavily in response but did not encourage him. He settled for a cupping of her breast instead and went back to work kissing her shoulder and pulling down the one strap. He could see in the soft glow of the light that the top of the camisole was just centimeters above her nipple. Sliding the strap just a little more would reveal the areola to him, and then her hardened nub. His fingers began to perform that slip for him, and he licked his lips in anticipation of taking her breast in his mouth. "Han, we have to stop." Her hands shot up to her chest, and she tried to catch her breath. "We can't, Han. We can't. We are so close to being done. In a couple of weeks we will be back on Chandrila, and we can do this all day every day. But not yet. Not now."

"Leia," he pleaded. "Just a little more. Let me see you at least."

She shook her head. "Han, you know if we start we won't be able to stop."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing. I'm tired of waiting on us," he leaned in to kiss her again, but she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him off of her. Han was deflated. "Okay, okay, I'm going, Your Worship." This time the use of the title was a tease.

He brushed thin wisps of hair away from her forehead in an effort to soften his departure, and kissed two of his fingers before placing the fingers on her lips. "I love you."

"I know," she smiled sleepily, then laughed her throaty laugh as he stood up from the bed, black bunk pants tented with his full erection.

"So that is what's been poking me in the thigh," she said huskily.

He made a growling sound. "If you keep up that sexy voice, you're going to get acquainted with this thing real fast."

She threw a pillow at him and laughed again. "Good night, hot shot."


	9. Chapter 9

Pate's bright green protocol droid handed Leia a basket of fruit from the Alderaanian garden then began his message. Pate's voice boomed through the main corridor of the _Envoy V_.

"His Highness, Prince Pate, invites you, Princess Leia, to dine with him this evening. His Highness would like to discuss the Alliance's proposal over dinner with you _alone_."

Leia could feel Han shift next to her at the word "alone." She placed her hand on his arm to keep him from speaking.

The droid continued, "His Highness will send an appropriate dress and a litter for you around seven in the evening standard Myrra time. His Highness requests that you wear the punig stone he gifted you in addition to the outfit that will be delivered."

Despite her hand on Han, he couldn't contain himself. "You tell Pate that the Princess will arrive with her security team in tow." Han pointed an angry finger at the droid while he spoke. "The Princess doesn't go anywhere near Pate without us."

The droid took a step back from Han and addressed Leia again, "If Your Highness wishes to bring your lady in waiting with you, Prince Pate will welcome her to the table. But the Prince fears any other guests will spoil the negotiations." The droid turned his bright green mechanical head to look at Han.

Leia spoke now for the first time, "Tell Prince Pate thank you for the basket of fruit. Dalia and I would be honored to join him for dinner this evening." Leia squeezed Han's arm hard in an effort to keep him in check while she finished. "We will look for the arrival of the litter near seven."

The droid looked from Han to Leia and down to Leia's hand that was gripping Han's arm so hard her knuckles had turned white.

"I will relay the message. And now I take my leave. Good day, Your Highness." The droid bowed slightly to the company standing before him, turned, and left.

Leia let go of Han, and he immediately began to rub the deep red fingerprints she had left on his arm.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" he yelled in front of everyone.

"Not now," she hissed at him, aware that no one had moved and the entire crew was staring at them.

"Yes, now!" Han waved a hand at their audience. "No one here is going to be surprised at what I have to say about this." His voice cracked with emotion as the blood climbed up his neck to redden his face.

Leia handed the basket of fruit to Dalia, "Let's have this for breakfast. See if Sulla minds. I don't want to inconvenience her if she's already started on something else."

Dalia took the basket and waved for the others to follow her out of the corridor and into the Main Lounge.

"Stop it, Han," she said through gritted teeth. "I thought we had agreed that you would trust me on this."

"I do trust you, Leia. It's Pate I don't trust," his face was fully red now, though he struggled to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice.

"I understand your objections, Han. But I can't let fear rule my decision making. If he wants me there to seal the deal over dinner, I can do that. Dalia and I can manage him," she insisted.

"Like you were managing Vader on the Death Star or Jabba back on Tatooine?"

Leia winced at those words. "So you are saying that without you constantly coming to my rescue I'd be what? Dead?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm and the tension they left behind the night before was back with a vengeance.

"I'm saying, there are times when you can't get yourself out of a scrape as well as you think you can. Rieekan charged me with protecting you for a reason. He was worried that there would be situations out here that would require other people to have your back. I'm fairly certain this qualifies as one of those situations."

"Dalia will be there," she stated flatly.

"Dalia is a fine friend to have, but an unarmed 'lady in waiting' is hardly my idea of a backup," he fired back at her.

"I'll be sure to share with her how much confidence you have in her abilities." With that, she turned on her heel and made her way into the Main Lounge and the crowd gathered around the basket of Alderaanian fruit.

* * *

Han knew he couldn't sit around the _Envoy V_ all day and stew about the "private dinner" or the fact that Leia seemed not to need him. He was not that kind of guy. He headed out to the streets of Myrra. Alone.

Like every other day he had been on the street in the capital city, no one looked at him as he passed. No one spoke to one another; no one made eye contact. While businesses of every sort lined the street, there were no market stalls in the streets or restaurant tables on patios. Han got the distinct impression that "street life" was not part of Myrrans' vocabulary.

"Lookin' for a place to buy a drink?" a husky alien voice whispered to him from behind. Han knew better than to turn around. If informants were approaching him on the street, they wouldn't want him to attract attention.

"Always," Han nodded, slowing his pace slightly so the unidentified alien could keep up with him.

"There's a cantina one street over. Called 'The Golden Girl'. Turn left at the next street, then left again. Got a gold door. Can't miss it. Sit in the booth with the girl in the black bikini."

Han nodded and quickened his step. He found the cantina without a problem, and slipped inside. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the bar. The music was load and the entire room seemed to gyrate with movement. Scantily clad girls danced on every table. Han scanned the room for a girl dressed in black. He spotted her at a table farthest from the door.

"Want a dance?" she slurred as he slipped into the booth.

He waved an acknowledgement of her question but didn't look at her. A waitress slid two drinks onto the table. Han thanked her and waited.

The beat of the music never changed, and the girls on the table were a successful distraction from other activity in the room. Han fingered his blaster, holstered as always by his side. He did not expect to use it here for he doubted Pate would be so bold as to knock him off, but he didn't put stirring up a little trouble beyond the prince.

After several minutes, an elderly woman joined him. She reached for the second glass on the table, drained it, and then whistled loudly to get the waitress' attention for more.

"He's hiding something from her," she croaked. Her voice sounded like she had something lodged in her throat. Han had to fight the urge not to pound her on the back to dislodge it.

"Hiding something from all of us, really. Do you know the history of Akiva?" she asked without looking at Han.

He shook his head.

"Used to be a great subterranean droid factory. Made the satrap a lot of money and gave him a lot of power. That's all gone now. Well, the influx of money. Now he makes it on the black market."

Han nodded impatiently. All kinds of rulers in the galaxy made a living nowadays on the wrong side of the law. This was not news to him.

"The satrap has this big harem. Bigger than his father's even. And Pate, well, he's the son of the satrap's favorite wife. So, he's going to inherit it all. Thing is, he got tired of waiting. So he poisoned the satrap, and imprisoned all his father's concubines and the children." She paused to take a long drink of her beverage.

Han took this opportunity to say, "So is the satrap dead?"

"No," she sputtered as she swallowed. "I have good spies. He's alive. But whatever Pate's giving him is making him unable to fight back or do anything at all about the situation."

"So, where does Pate have all of his brothers and sisters? And all their mothers?"

She was drinking again. "Droid factory," she said into her cup.

"Underground," Han nodded. It made perfect sense.

"The women of the harem were easy to hide away. I mean, the harem itself was hidden anyway. But his siblings? That was tougher. See, in this system, the siblings, or half-sibling of the heir fill in as the heir's chief advisors and administrators. Some who aren't loyal or just aren't bright fill in the other duties. A concubine who finds herself on the wrong end of the satrap's generosity might be punished by having to watch her children placed in positions of servitude." She paused again, draining her cup. "So, somehow Pate had to move not just the women but their children too… some of them already grown… in order to keep them from protesting his treatment of their shared father."

"How did he do it? How did he gather them all up?"

She shrugged and whistled for the waitress yet again. "Tricked some. Snatched others right off the streets. Got pretty nasty with some of them. Bystanders stopped asking questions when Pate ordered the Gamorreans to kill anyone who tried to intervene."

"So, how many people do you think he has under there?"

She paused, tapping a finger on the table."400 maybe? I don't know exactly. A lot."

"Is the Princess in danger?"

She smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, Han Solo, you are in significantly more danger than your princess. She is untouchable. You are not." She stood as the waitress arrived again at the table with her drink, took it from her, and wandered off into the crowded bar.

Han sat thinking about the old woman's words. He was in danger not her. He had been in danger because of her before. In fact, he had been in danger because of her _many_ times before. But she was worth it. Always worth it. What really worried Han was that they might use her to get at him. It was one thing to meet Pate head on and lose. It was another thing for Pate to put Leia in the middle. He knew enough about Leia's state of mind to believe that she would blame herself if anything happened to him. Just as he would always blame himself if anything happened to her. The only sure-fire way to make sure that neither of them was put into the situation was to stop Pate before he could hurt either of them.

* * *

"I need to talk to you. Now!" Han demanded as he stormed back onto the _Envoy V_. Leia and Dalia were standing in Leia's private lounge sorting through packages that Pate had sent over with the evening's suggested attire.

Leia looked from Han to Dalia and back to Han. "Ok. Talk."

"Alone," he stated coolly.

"Anything you have to say you can say in front of Dalia. You know that."

Han breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself. He looked at Dalia. "Dalia, please give us a minute."

Dalia nodded, dropped the dress she was holding, and walked out of the room.

Han turned and walked back to Leia's bedroom. Leia followed him, recognizing that she wanted to get as many walls between her voice and the crew's ears before she yelled at Han for dismissing Dalia.

"Han, let me remind you that I am in charge here—"

Han held his hand up in an effort to silence her. "Stop. Just stop. I need you to listen to me. I have some information that you need to hear. Pate has imprisoned his family, his siblings and maybe his father, in an old subterranean droid factory."

Leia rolled her eyes. "How do you know this?"

"I've spent the afternoon gathering intelligence. It's part of my job."

"You smell like you've spent the afternoon in a cantina," she retorted.

"Dammit, Leia. Listen to me. We are in danger." He held back the part of the old woman's warning that _he_ was the one in danger. He wanted Leia to take this seriously, but he did not want her to overreact and do something rasher than she already had planned. "I'm not sure exactly what Pate's plan is, but the fact that he has possibly poisoned his father and hidden away the rest of his family can't be good. I'm not going to let you go to this dinner alone with him. If you feel like you _have_ to meet with him, fine. But the rest of the security team is going with you."

"Han," she began to protest yet again.

"I have strict instructions not to let you go anywhere alone. If something were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself." He shook his head. "This is not open to negotiation, Leia."

Frustration bubbled out of Leia, and the volume of her voice not only shot up, but the tone did as well. "Han, the jealous thing was a turn on the first time you said it, but you can't let this get in the way of the overall mission. I am here to convince them to join the Alliance. If that means I have to have dinner alone with Pate, I am having dinner alone with Pate. Not sex. Dinner, Han. Dinner."

"Gods, Leia. This is not about jealousy. This is about your safety," he shouted. "He has something _planned_."

Leia stood with her arms crossed, glaring at him. She wasn't budging. Han decided to try a different tactic. If he couldn't scare her into allowing him to go, maybe he could appeal to her intelligence.

"You are smarter than this," he said. "You have more intelligence, more political savvy, more…" he couldn't think of the word, "… more of everything, in your little finger than he has in his whole kingdom. You don't need to do this. You _want_ to do this. You know he wouldn't invite you to come alone if he didn't have something planned."

"Dalia and I can handle it, Han. We are big girls," she argued.

Han's shoulders dropped. He was getting nowhere with her. He would not convince her to believe him. He would have to find another way to attend the dinner.

* * *

Dalia was in the lounge discussing something quietly with Park. Han cleared his throat to get their attention. "Can I talk to you?" he asked Dalia.

Dalia followed him into his quarters, where he related everything the old woman had said to him that afternoon.

"Why won't she listen to me, Dalia? I get the sense that she wants this dinner with Pate. But I can't figure out why. Does she want a yes for the Alliance so badly that she would throw caution to the wind? Or does she want something from Pate himself? Something I can't give her." He grimaced as he said the last words. "I can't give her a palace, or a 'Prince' in front of my name. I can't give her Alderaan. I can't take her back home."

Dalia said, "She never like all that ritual stuff. This isn't 'coming home' this is nostalgia." Dalia took a step toward Han and put her hand on his shoulder, "Hey, this isn't about Pate. I promise you. This is about Leia's interpretation of her duty to the Alliance. She feels like she let them down when Alderaan was destroyed. Let _us_ down," Dalia patted herself on the chest. "She's just trying to make sure she doesn't let anyone down again."

"But Alderaan wasn't her fault," Han protested.

Dalia smiled weakly. "Try telling her that. Have you talked to her about Alderaan? Do you know how much guilt she carries?"

"Some," Han nodded.

"Pate is feeding into her guilt. That's what the punig stone, garden, and courtly stuff is all about. He wants her to feel like she can make up for Alderaan by embracing what she has lost."

"Bastard," Han whispered.

Dalia nodded. "But she has to play his game to get the yes for the Alliance. Let her play it out. I'll be there to make sure nothing happens."

Han stood silently, thinking about his next move.

"We've been at this for a couple of weeks now, and you've been by her side dutifully every moment. Take the night off. I'll take the rest of the team as far as the palace, and they can assume positions that will let them observe and be close in case something happens."

"I'll—"

"No," she held up her hand. "Your presence will only make Pate nervous. You stay here. Let the rest of us handle this." She turned on her heel and exited his quarters before he could continue his protest.

* * *

Dalia was crazy if she thought Han was going to sit around the ship while the rest of his team went off to protect Leia. But Han also recognized that he needed to change his tactic. If he could not convince the others that they needed him, he would simply have to play their game and formulate his own plan. To that end, when Dalia arrived as his door holding a glass of whiskey, he took it willingly.

"To relax you on your night off," she said with a warm smile. Han took the whiskey and slugged it back. She smiled and poured him another. He did not drink it, but took the glass and the bottle and thanked her.

Moments later he heard the cheerful group leave the _Envoy V_. He felt a mix of relief that he had been left to his own plan and sudden exhaustion. I'll lie down for just a minute, he thought. It'll give them time to get some ways ahead of me so that they don't see me follow them.

* * *

He awoke in the pitch black. He had fallen asleep but he had no memory of being sleepy—exhausted, yes, sleepy, no. One minute he was lying back on the bed, the next minute he was waking. What in the Gods' names had happened? His head was pounding. He'd only had one drink… the one glass of whiskey Dalia had handed him. He hadn't drunk another one, had he? He reached for the reading light above his bed and switched it on. His vision was blurry but he could see the unfinished glass of whiskey on the desk. No, he'd just had the one drink. His head swam with the effort of sitting up, and his mouth filled with saliva. He was going to be sick. He lurched for the 'fresher in hopes of getting there in time. He just made it, vomiting the contents of his stomach as though he'd had a hard night of boozing. When the heaving stopped, he slumped next to the toilet. The hard deck floor felt cool against his skin, and he pressed his burning cheek up against it.

* * *

"Han," he could hear Leia calling to him. A cool cloth bathed his forehead. "Han," he heard again. He shifted in an effort to roll onto his back but the movement shot a pain through his head.

He grabbed the hand that mopped his brow. "Stop," he demanded.

"Han," she said in a maternal voice. "Let's see if we can get you into bed."

He tried to wiggle away from her hands, but he was too sluggish and too nauseated to get far. "You drugged me?" he asked accusingly.

"No I didn't," she stated as a matter of fact.

"You did," he replied taking another swipe at her hand on his forehead. "Or Dalia did." He felt the bile rising in his throat again and tried to turn before the dry heaving began again.

She sighed, rubbing his back as his body jerked against the heaving. "It was Dalia's idea. She was afraid you would follow us. That you wouldn't be able to control your temper or your jealousy. I needed to go to that dinner, Han. I needed to."

"Stop. You are just making it worse."

"Come on, let's see if we can get you off this floor. Dalia said she only gave you enough to make you sleep for an hour or two. You must have some kind of allergy to the tonic. She said she's never seen anyone get so sick from it. She's researching an antidote right now."

Han struggled to his feet, though he only managed a stoop. Any effort to move his head fully upright resulted in another wave of nausea. "What time is it?" he asked as he shuffled toward his bed.

"About 4am."

"You stayed out with Pate until 4am?" Han tried to muster some indignation, but he didn't have it in him. Though his vision was still blurry, he could see that Leia was wearing a sleeveless gown similar to the one Pate had sent her that first day. He directed his eyes toward her neck and noted with relief that she was not wearing the punig stone as Pate's droid had requested.

Leia smiled at him. "Han, your jealousy was a turn on at first, and then it was enraging, but now it is just tedious."

The door slid open, and Dalia walked in carrying a tiny glass with a dark purple liquid in it. She approached Han in the bed cautiously, "I am so sorry. I had no idea you would react this way to a simple sleeping tonic." She repressed a smile.

Han caught it. "You think this is funny?"

"No, of course not. Well, maybe a little." Leia shot Dalia a look. "Ok," Dalia said holding up a little glass. "Park was a medic before he joined the security squad, and he swears by this concoction as an antidote to the sleeping tonic. He says it'll only take a few minutes to kick in."

Han tried to sit up. "It smells awful." He leaned over the edge of the bed as he gagged. Leia rubbed his back as he heaved again.

"Come on, just swallow it quickly."

Propping himself on one elbow, he took the glass and shot the liquid down his throat. He gagged once again but kept the liquid down.

"How's that?" Dalia asked.

"Peachy," he replied. "Now get the hell out," he said without emotion. Dalia patted him on the shoulder and then took her leave of them both.

Leia turned to the business of getting Han undressed for he was still fully clothed down to his boots.

"What are you doing?" he asked gruffly.

"Getting you undressed," she replied.

"I thought I'd never hear you say those words," he said flatly. He was still angry with her for going to Pate against his advice, but he didn't have it in him to fight with her.

"You must be feeling better already if you are in the mood to tease me."

He pulled her into bed next to him. "I am upset that you and Dalia drugged me. That you put yourself in that position with Pate. But I'm glad you are back safely." He paused while she settled in next to him. "How did it go tonight?"

"Good," she said. "We'll know more in the morning. We have a meeting set for 9am local time."

He wanted to ask her specific details about the dinner, but he didn't have it in him to talk. The antidote had relieved the nausea and the pounding in his head, but he continued to feel groggy and disoriented. The warmth of her next to him soothed his anger, and he didn't want her to go, so he stayed silent and pulled her into the curve of his body. In minutes, the soft rhythm of sleep overtook her breathing. Han too fell back into a deep sleep.

He shot awake several hours later and looked at the time. 8:30am. He sprang from bed and ran to the door and into the corridor. He needed to find Dalia to buy them some time to get ready. She was sitting in the lounge with the other security detail members. No one looked frantic about the time. "Dalia," he hissed, and waved her over. "The time, I… we…"

She held up a hand to stop him. "The meeting has been postponed. Pate is hungover, so we don't have to be at the palace until 1. Go back to bed. Go back to her," she whispered.

Han crawled gently back into his bed. He set his alarm for 10:30am, and prepared to watch her sleep. But within minutes, he was asleep again as well.

When the alarm next went off, it was Leia who sat up. "What time is it?" she puzzled. Confused, she looked around the room. She had forgotten that she had fallen asleep in Han's bed and for a moment she couldn't remember how she had gotten there.

"Hey, he said grabbing her as she leapt from his bed. It's ok. The meeting has been postponed.

"Why?" she asked.

"Lover boy has a hang over." And then it hit him. She was with him until 4am, and he was so hung over that now they couldn't meet. They'd been up all night _drinking_. "Um, so you were up all night drinking with him?"

"What?" Leia asked not following the change in topic from delayed meeting to her night with Pate.

"Pate has such a hang over that he can't meet this morning. He was with you last night, so he must have gotten that hang over in your company."

Leia nodded. "He drank a lot. _A lot_. I'm not sure I've ever seen anything like it." She wasn't looking at him. Her head was bent towards her lap as she tried to rebraid her hair.

"Did he try anything?" Han demanded.

"Here we go again," Leia muttered.

"Well?"

"Well, what do you think Han?" she asked exasperated. "He invited me to his palace to have dinner with him _alone_. He thinks he has me backed into a corner. That I will marry him in exchange for a promise to join the Alliance."

"I knew it!" shouted Han and then winced at the pain his own voice caused to his still tender head.

"Oh come on, everyone knows it. This is not news. Everyone from Riekker on down knew this is what Pate was going to pull. That is why they sent me."

"As some kind of sacrificial lamb?"

"No, because they knew I could handle it if he tried anything, and then—"

He cut her off. "Did he? Did he try anything?"

"Han, let me finish…"

"Leia," he came across the room in two strides to stand right in front of her, "did he try anything?" he said slowly. Almost menacingly.

"Yes," she said softly. Han stepped back across the room to his boots. "What are you doing? Han, stop. Let me finish my explanation."

"Leia, I am done with this nerfshit. This guy thinks he can just take whatever he wants. Well he can't have you," he spat.

"Han, what are you going to do? Fight him? You are just going to walk into the palace and fight a prince who is surrounded by guards. An old smuggler fighting a _prince_ , Han." The look on Han's face told her that she had gone too far. She paused for a moment trying to redirect her argument. "Han," she began again softly, "you have this all wrong."

But he wasn't listening to her. She had cut him deeply. In all the years the two of them had been friends, and then more than friends, all the bickering, the fighting, the barbs, and jabs, never once had they attacked the fundamentals of the other one. The unchangeable things. It was one thing to call her an ice princess or him a scoundrel. They could change those things. But he couldn't change his past. He couldn't change the fact that he was a smuggler and in many ways still thought like a smuggler. It is what made him good at his other duties. But now she had used that against him. Demonstrated that she was willing to draw fundamental distinctions between who he was and who Pate was. She was walking over to him now, still talking, still apologizing. She placed her hands on his cheeks. He took a deep breath; he was done fighting with her. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay. Go get dressed for the day. Eat something. You need to finish what you've started."

But it wasn't okay. It might never be okay again.

Prince Pate was subdued at the meeting that afternoon. He had agreed to join the Alliance and promised that either himself or one of his full brothers would serve as the Senator from his planet once representative were needed. Only Han seemed to grasp the irony of his agreement regarding one of his siblings. Pate would, of course, have to free that brother from the abandoned droid factory. But no one would listen to Han on that score. Leia had mentally moved on from Pate, ready to take on their next planet. But Han couldn't move on. Couldn't forget what had happened in Myrra. Couldn't forget what Leia had said. Couldn't help but wonder what she had done to get them out of there so easily.


	10. Chapter 10

Han did not ask Leia or Dalia what had happened that night with Pate nor did they volunteer to share it with him. Dalia felt that Leia should tell Han, but Leia was reluctant given the nature of Pate's advances. Han was fine with their silence. On the one hand he didn't want to know. On the other, he wasn't sure either of them would tell him the truth. For Pate to abandon his plans for Leia so easily, especially given the information the old woman had shared about Han's being in danger, something big must have happened.

Han had hoped they could negotiate for the release of Pate's father and the harem, but Leia didn't seem interested in such matters. She had hardly batted an eye when Han shared all of that with her. Maybe she wasn't ready to think about lost fathers or imprisoned families given her own tragedy, but Han had a hard time reconciling the justice-seeking soldier he had known with the calculating royal senator that had materialized on this trip.

After leaving Pate and Akiva, they had another couple of week's worth of meetings on other Outer Rim planets. Much like the audiences before Akiva, the speeches and social events were without much tension. Leia did her job, and the security team did theirs. Dalia, recognizing she had overstepped her bounds with the sleeping tonic, demurred to Han at every opportunity, and for his part, Han did not berate her for what had happened. He had briefly toyed with alerting Rieekan to the breech in protocol but decided, in the end, the less that was said about the circumstances surrounding the private meeting with Pate the better.

When she was not preparing for the next stop on the diplomatic tour, Leia tried to be attentive to Han. She knew he was still upset about Pate, but because he did not tell her which specific insult was the final blow, she assumed the entire episode had him troubled. So, rather than address the one injury, she covered him in salve, leaving the actual wound unhealed. Han continued to respond to Leia physically—he kissed her back when she kissed him, hugged her back when she hugged him—but she did not quite grasp that he was just going through the motions. She had taken to sneaking into his quarters each night and crawling into his bed, and he let her. She assumed the absence of any advances on his part was his attempt to be professional and wait until they returned to Chandrila to finally make love. She had no clue that she was losing him.

* * *

On the last night of their diplomatic mission, Leia suggested that they all go out to enjoy themselves and celebrate a more or less successful mission. They were in the capital city of Jelucan. Valentia was a city built into mountain peaks with stone buildings carved high up the side of the mountains. She had heard the view from the tallest building was breath taking, and that the restaurant on the top floor was one of the best in the Outer Rim.

Han was reluctant to join them. He had spent the past several days dreading the end of the trip, dreading finding a way to explain to Leia what had happened to them, as she clearly had not caught on to the changes in him.

"Han," Leia pleaded with him. "You have to come with us. You are supposed to protect me, remember? Never leave my side?"

He nodded and smiled weakly at her. "But you've proven you don't need me, Your Highness. You'll do just fine on your own."

"But I don't want to be on my own. I want to be with you," she tried to slip her arms around his neck as she said this, but his hands pulled her arms down and pushed her back slightly.

"Leia, I have a report I need to finish before we arrive back in Chandrila," he protested.

"But you have all day in hyperspace tomorrow to work on that," she whined.

Dalia appeared in the doorway behind Leia. "Come on, General. We aren't letting you off that easily. If one of us has to accompany her to the top of this mountain, we all do. Get dressed," she ordered.

"Who's running this show, Dalia?" Han asked unamused.

"I guess I am," she replied with a wink. "Let's get going. We are going to miss that famous sunset if we don't."

Han acquiesced and reluctantly joined the group on their excursion. As Leia, Park, and the others stood on the balcony of the restaurant watching the sunset across the mountain range, Han sat inside at their table sipping his drink. Dalia, frustrated with Han's increasingly distant attitude, decided to attempt to draw him out.

"So, are you _excited_ about getting back to Chandrila?" she asked playfully.

He shrugged. "I guess. Should I be excited?"

"Stop being coy, General. I know—hell everyone knows—that you and Leia have been waiting for the end of this trip so that you can finally have some time alone." She winked at him, but he didn't look her in the face to see it.

Han's shoulders slumped slightly at the mention of him and Leia waiting to be alone, but he continued staring at his hands, hoping his silence would make Dalia go away and give up her line of questioning.

"Han?" She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his. The gesture startled him, and he jerked his hand back nearly knocking over his drink. "Gods, you are jumpy. What is going on with you?"

"Nothing, Dalia. Just leave me alone," he grumbled.

"This isn't nothing," she protested. "I've known you were upset for several weeks, but I thought you'd snap out of it. Han, you have to talk to me. We have to fix this before we go back tomorrow."

Han shook his head. "There's nothing to fix, Dalia. It's clear this isn't going to work. I just need to get that in my head, deal with it, and move on," he said sadly.

"What's not going to work? You and Leia?"

Han nodded, still not making eye contact.

Dalia leaned around Han to make sure that Leia and the rest of the crew were still outside on the balcony. Assuring herself that they would be several more minutes, she began to work on the dejected man sitting across from her.

"Han Solo. You need to get yourself together _now_. Leia is counting on you—" Han reached across the table and covered Dalia's mouth to stop her from speaking.

"Dalia, she doesn't want me. Not really. She might have thought she did during the war, but I'm not the man for her going forward. She needs a man with more sophistication, more breeding, more…." He searched the ceiling for the right word, " ... polish. I don't have that. I'm a smuggler not a prince." He felt like he was finally letting out the breath he had been holding since Leia had first said that.

"Gods, Han, are you kidding me? She _loves_ you," Dalia insisted. "She doesn't care if you are a smuggler. She fell in love with you knowing that!"

"But that was before she met Pate." Dalia tried to interrupt, but Han continued, "Oh, I know Pate is a first-rate jerk and that she doesn't like him, but she would prefer someone _like_ him to someone like me."

Dalia shook her head, "What makes you say that?"

"She told me," he replied softly.

"She told you? She told you she preferred someone like Pate to you?" Dalia's voice was incredulous.

Han nodded. "Sort of."

" _Sort of_? _Sort of_?" Dalia repeated. "What exactly did she say, Han?"

Han sighed, reluctant to repeat the discussion but realizing he was too deep into the conversation with Dalia to avoid it. "She asked if I, a smuggler, were planning to go fight Pate, a prince. 'A _smuggler_ fighting a _prince'_ , were her exact words, I believe."

"And you took this to mean that she preferred a prince over a smuggler?"

"How would you have taken it?" he blurted.

"How about that in a galaxy without a war, a smuggler who attacks a prince is going to get swift retribution? How about that she loves the smuggler and doesn't want to see him pummeled by a prince's Gamorrean guards? How about that she knows this prince is a vicious, brutal man who poisons his father and imprisons his siblings and she doesn't want to see her beloved smuggler suffer the same fate? You said yourself, Han, that you were in danger, maybe—"

"How did you know that? I never told you I was in danger?" Han replied argumentatively.

"She told me, Han. She told me everything you told her. She believed what you said about Pate. She was so worried about you she couldn't stand the thought of Pate hurting you. She knew if you went to Pate that you might not come back to her. She couldn't stand the thought of that. So she went to him instead."

Han stared at the table, shaking his head. "I don't want to hear about that night, Dalia."

"Han, you need to hear about it." She could hear Leia's laugh ring out behind Han, and she leaned around him to see the group walking back inside toward the table.

"Come on," she grabbed his hand and stood up.

"Where are you two going?" Leia asked, still laughing.

"We are just in the middle of discussing this report he has to write tomorrow," Dalia sputtered unconvincingly.

Leia looked from Dalia to Han and back to her longtime friend. The brief thought that maybe she should be jealous shot through her mind, but she quickly shook it off. Dalia liked Park, didn't she? Surely Dalia didn't have a thing for Han? But they were out the door to the balcony before she could question or protest further.

The view of the mountains from the balcony was spectacular even in the twilight. Tiny lights like stars twinkled across the valley as the light of day gave way to darkness. Dalia, holding Han's hand, pulled him through the spectators still leaning over the balcony watching the valley's lights come to life until she found a small, vacant table and pushed him into one of the chairs.

"Listen to me, Han. I'm not going to lie to you. That night with Pate was scary. I was terrified the entire time that we had made the wrong decision to slip you the sleeping tonic. I knew that if anything happened to Leia it would be on me."

Han did not respond but continued to stare at Dalia, waiting for her to continue.

"Pate got drunk. Really, really drunk. He was angry with Leia for not wearing the punig stone that night as he had asked, and he began shouting at her and threatening her."

"What is the deal with that necklace? Why would he care if she wore it or not? She wore all the clothes he sent her," he said with disgust.

"The punig stone is given to royal women when they marry. It's an ancient Alderaanian custom. He wanted her to wear it as a sort of betrothal gift."

Han clench his hands into fists and shoved them under the table to keep from hitting something. "So he did want to marry her."

"Well, he wanted someone to think they were getting married. The Empire? The Alliance? That part wasn't clear. What was clear was that he wanted to give the impression that he had fully taken over from his father as he satrap in charge of Akiva, and he felt having a wife in hand to start his own harem was the way to go."

The thought of headstrong, stubborn Leia as the member of a harem made Han smirk ever so slightly.

"Anyway, as I said, he got really, really drunk. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. He seemed driven to keep up this really wicked pace of drinking and eating. About halfway through dinner he was so drunk he vomited on himself and on the table."

"You're kidding," Han asked surprised by this turn.

Dalia shook her head. "No, I'm not. One of the servants ran out of the room while the others stepped forward to help him. I pulled Leia from the table so she could avoid having to be near him in that state. The servants literally dragged him out of the room—he was unable to even walk on his own. In a few minutes the servant returned with several of Pate's ministers. Leia recounted to them what she had seen, and they agreed to meet with her privately right then and there."

Han nodded, "So she didn't cut a deal with Pate?"

"With him out of the picture, the ministers were willing to talk openly with Leia. She shared with them the information you had gathered. They, of course, knew about the satrap and the imprisoned harem, but the fact that _Leia_ also knew and would share that with the Alliance put her in a position of strength in terms of the negotiations." Dalia smiled and reached across the table to squeeze Han's arm. "So you see, you gave her the information she needed to get the job done. Without your work, your reconnaissance, she would have just been a princess without a dinner companion. _You_ made her a senator with valuable insider knowledge."

Han moved his hands back to the top of the table and unclenched his fists. He was relaxing for the first time in weeks. "So, the ministers forced Pate to sign the deal?"

"Yes, what else could he do? He had disgraced himself in front of Leia, and he knew it. His façade was gone."

Han sat quietly absorbing everything Dalia had just shared with him.

"Han," Dalia started again softly. "Her love for you was never in question. She has been in love with you for years." She smiled and sighed. "Really, _years_. The first time I saw her with you, way back on Yavin, I knew she had fallen for you."

He smirked. "She hated me back then."

"Uh uh," Dalia replied shaking her head. "She was head over heels in love. She just didn't know how to show it. You should have seen the way she looked at you when you weren't looking. Actually," she lowered her voice, "you should have seen the way you _both_ looked at each other when you though no one was watching." Dalia laughed. "Everyone knew it but the two of you."

Han lowered his head and shook it slightly. "I've been such a jerk to her these past two weeks. I thought she wanted something else. Someone else."

"Fix it."

"I will." Han stood and then leaned over Dalia and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you for this. Thank you for telling me what I thought I didn't want to hear."

When Han stood up he saw Leia standing one table away from them, watching him and Dalia. He panicked for a moment, but then she slowly shook her head at him, and a soft smile spread across her face. "Dalia told you everything."

Han nodded but didn't move toward her.

"I didn't want you to know the details. I thought you'd be even angrier than you already were," she said quietly.

"I should have just asked you. I was too hurt or too ashamed to see anyone's struggles or pain but my own."

Leia walked toward him and took his hand. "Let's go home, Han."

He pulled her into his arms and crushed her against him. "Having you in my arms _is_ home," he whispered.

(Stay tuned for the homecoming….)


	11. Chapter 11

When the crew of the _Envoy V_ finally arrived back in Chandrila, it was evening on the planet. Han and the security team had orders from Rieekan to debrief him immediately upon their return. Leia, too, had to head to the Chandrilan senate building for a meeting with Mon Mothma before being formally released from the duties of the mission. Thus, the entire crew made their way to the center of the city together.

"You did an excellent job, General Solo," Rieekan proclaimed as they stood up from the briefing. "If this kind of work interests you, I think there will be many more missions in your future."

"Well, it really only interests me if I can work with this team," he waved a hand to indicate Park, Dalia, and the third guy whose name he could never remember.

"And protect the Princess?"

Han laughed with embarrassment. "Yes, and protect the Princess."

Rieekan slapped him on the back. "We'll see what Mothma has to say about her success. But I suspect all of you will be off together again before long. The Outer Rim is a large place, and you all seem to have done an excellent job."

"Thank you, sir."

"Hang on a minute, Solo," Rieekan said as the others filed out of the room. "I wanted to discuss your accommodations while you are with us on Chandrila. I sent Chewbacca and General Calrissian on a run in the _Falcon_ to collect several caches we have stored around the galaxy. I don't expect them back for another 2 standard weeks, at least. So, you'll need a place to stay." He pulled a small folder off his desk and handed it to Han. "It's a small, but comfortable, apartment. The Alliance would rather the high ranking brass not stay in the barracks to make room for any new recruits we might have now that any real danger has passed." He rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," he said pulling the key card and a set of directions out of the folder.

"I believe," Rieekan said clearing his throat uncomfortably, "that Mothma, against her better judgment, is handing Leia a similar key card to the same apartment. I hope that's okay."

Han pulled at his buttoned collar uncomfortably. "Yeah, of course," he replied. "I guess I ought to go to it, then." The potential double entendre embarrassed both men even more, and Han weakly saluted and ducked out the door.

He waited for a bit on the bottom floor of the senate building hoping he would catch Leia on her way out, but he did not see her. Assuming either her meeting had run long or he had missed her, he decided to head to the apartment to see if the Alliance "matchmakers" had fully stocked it.

He began his walk toward their apartment slowly, trying to take in the sites and sounds of a Chandrila that was settling into peace. The refrain "What now? What now?" kept running through his head, not just in relation to Leia but all of it. A world without war, without the Empire to avoid, without having to smuggle to get by. He took a deep breath. I have a real job, and a real future. I am going to be okay.

But within a few blocks anxiety was creeping in. What am I walking toward? Running toward? Leia. Making love to Leia. Why am I panicking about this? I have made love to a lot of women; this should not be causing me to panic. But this is _Leia_. He didn't even realize he was actually running, directions flapping uselessly in his hand, until he almost knocked a woman down. He apologized and looked around, trying to orient himself. He was in a crowded plaza with a large fountain at the center. People appeared to be walking home from work, or maybe going out for the evening. Some walked alone, others walked hand in hand. He sat on the edge of a fountain to collect himself and dropped his face in hands. Come on, pull it together, he told himself. You are going to ruin this.

"Hey, fly boy, know where I can find a good pilot?" someone whispered in his ear. He knew that husky, sensuous voice. He looked at her, and she gasped, "Han, what is wrong? You are white as a sheet. You look like you are going to pass out."

"I think I am having an anxiety attack," he breathed heavily.

"Over what?" she asked, wiping a hand over his forehead.

He paused, trying to decide whether or not to tell her the truth. "You. Us. Tonight."

"You are kidding. Shouldn't I be the nervous one?" She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him up. "Come on, hot shot, I've got you." She steered him out of the plaza. "I understand they've given us shared accommodations. That means you won't easily be rid of me."

"I don't ever want to be rid of you, Leia," he replied weakly.

They did not talk for the remainder of the walk to the new apartment. Han tried to focus on the fact that this was supposed to feel good. He had not panicked when he thought weeks ago that he was going to make love to her on Endor. Nor had he ever panicked while on the _Falcon_ headed toward Bespin. There were countless nights on that trip he could have pushed the issue if he had wanted to. Somehow it was different now. Everything that had happened on this last mission—watching her as a senator, watching her as a Princess—brought home to him what an amazing person she really was, and he was petrified of screwing that up.

She squeezed his hand as she slipped the key card into the slot at the door and then placed her palm on the sensor to allow it to record her prints. Once it had finished, she pulled Han's hand up and placed it on the sensor as well. "There, now it is ours," she said as the sensor turned green indicating a successful read. The door slid open and she led them inside.

"Are you hungry?" she asked turning on the lights and stopping in front of the kitchen. "It's late, we haven't eaten. If they haven't stocked it, we can order something."

Han did not answer but pressed past her through the narrow hallway into the main lounge of the apartment. She followed him. "It's got a gorgeous view of the gardens and that fountain," she said pointing. Han continued to explore the apartment without saying a word. Finally, he opened a door that was a bedroom and pulled her inside.

The bedclothes were entirely white, matching exactly her quarters on the _Envoy V_. In fact, everything about the apartment channeled the décor of the _Envoy V_. Han made a mental note to thank Drayson—or whomever the arbiter of her décor had been—for easing him into this luxurious world while on their mission. The _Falcon_ really was going to feel like a hunk of space junk after all of this.

"How long have we been waiting for this moment?" she asked as she followed him toward the bed.

"Forever, " he replied as he stepped toward her and pulled her into his arms. He bent his face to hers and kissed her softly. It was something they had done a hundred times now, but tonight was different. They did not have to stop here, and the magnitude of that realization was mounting for both of them.

Leia stepped back from him and undid the belt around her waist. He watched her nimble fingers unclasp it and drop it to the floor. Then, eyes still on her fingers, he watched them gather up the white fabric of her senatorial gown until she had the hem of the gown in her hands. In one fluid motion, she pulled the gown over her head and dropped it next to her belt.

Han's eyes moved from where Leia's fingers had been at her thighs, past her white panties, and up her torso. Her breasts were bare, and the sight of Leia standing there nearly naked in front of him caused a low moan to escape his lips.

"Gods, Leia." He wanted to reach out and touch her, to envelop her in his arms, but he was rooted to the floor, unable to move.

She stepped toward him instead. Reaching for his belt, her fingers were not quite as deft at undoing his belt as they had been at hers. "Han, you want to help with this?" she giggled nervously.

"I'm not sure I can," he croaked awkwardly. "I mean, a blaster holster is one thing but this damned uniform belt confounds me all the time." His fingers tangled with hers as they both worked the clasp.

He was already hard as a rock and bulging from his pants. She poked at his erection and said, "That's not making it any easier to get you out of these pants." And with the electricity that shot through his body as her fingers pressed his stiffness, he knew he was not going to be able to make this last the wanted he had always imagined it.

Han grabbed her fingers and pressed them together, "Stop. Just let me. If you keep touching me like that, this is going to be over before it starts."

She reached for him again "Like this?" she teased and laughed.

He jerked his hips away from her. "Gods, Leia, you have no idea what you do to me. Just your touch can send me over the edge. If you want this to last long enough for me to get you onto the bed, you are going to have to step back for a minute and let me get out of these clothes," he growled.

"Fine," Leia replied with a mock pout. She turned and slid herself onto the bed, splaying herself on her back. "I will wait here for you."

The sight of her spread out of the white bedclothes, clad in nothing but a pair of white underwear, assaulted all of his senses. He turned from her and finished pulling off his belt. The rest of his clothes were off a few seconds later. As he turned back to Leia, the smile on her face faded, and she stared at the erect member jutting out from his groin. Catching where she was looking, Han smiled.

"I take it the two of you are going to need an introduction?" He crawled onto the bed next to her.

"I mean, I've seen holovids, but seeing you…" Han drowned the rest of her words with his lips.

Han knew to make this last any amount of time, he was going to have to do all the touching and avoid encouraging her to do the same. There is plenty of time for the other, he told himself. Make this about her, not you. But he did not trust himself, and a part of his brain cursed his decision to disrobe completely. To discourage her hands, he pinned them above her head with one of his hands. Then he moved his other hand down her cheek, past her neck and stopped just above her nipple. Leia was holding her breath. He looked from her breast to her face, "You're going to have to breathe, sweetheart." She sucked in a gulp of air as though he had ordered her to do so. Then let it out slowly. As she did, he lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked it past his teeth, letting his tongue do most of the work. She arched her back and struggled to free her hands, but Han held them. He used his free hand to cup her breast, giving him more access to the skin around the nipple.

"Gods, Han," she moaned.

The smell of her was intoxicating—a mix of fragrant soap and sweat. I could die right here, he thought. He nuzzled her nipple with the tip of his nose a couple of times before consuming it in his mouth again.

"Han, let go of my hands, I want to touch you," she protested.

He shook his head. "I told you, this will be over with in about 5 seconds if you touch me."

Leia pulled her knee up and tried to loop her leg over Han's hip. He used his free hand to pull her leg off. "You are incorrigible!" he growled with a sly smile. "You really want it that badly? Right now?"

She nodded. "I really do. At least, I think I do?" The anxiety in her eyes told him she wasn't sure she wanted it this fast, but Han knew that his options at this point were limited. This was not going to be a slow, languid session of lovemaking. Not this first time. It was taking all of his will power to control his own desire; he could not be expected to control hers as well.

Making a quick decision, he sat up and placed a hand on either side of her hips. "Leia, are you sure about this?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

Han edged his fingers inside the waistband of her panties and pulled them all the way down, past her toes, discarding them with the rest of their clothes on the floor. He turned to look at her, a princess, _his_ Princess, stark naked on the bed.

He took a deep breath and then slide himself up the length of her. He could feel himself throbbing; he was beginning to worry he wouldn't even make it inside before he came. He tried to talk himself back from the edge. This isn't some cantina girl in the back of the bar, Solo. Enjoy this. Enjoy Leia. It'll never be her first time again. But this line of thinking only made it worse. Leia. He was going to be inside of _Leia_.

She had spread her legs and wrapped them around his lower back, digging her heels into him, driving his pelvis into her. "Han," she begged. "Do it. I want to feel you inside of me."

He growled a low curse at himself for taking her so quickly, but he was beyond helping the situation. He slid two fingers inside of her so that the sensation of him fully entering her would not startle her quite so much. Her hips immediately snapped to his, pressing not only his fingers in deeper but his erection against her. In one swift move, he slid his fingers out and the tip of his manhood in. He stopped and waited for a reaction, but she was rigid, waiting for him to finish his penetration.

Gods, she looked so beautiful like that. Still and quiet. Eyes closed. Lips slightly parted. Waiting for him. Waiting for _him_. He lifted his hips ever so slightly then plunged deeper into her. She gasped and her nails dug into his back. "Are you okay?" he asked, hating this moment of pain but knowing from experience it would be short-lived.

She nodded, opened her eyes, and then smiled. "Now I am yours."

Han responded by crushing her mouth with his own. He completed another stroke with his hips, and this time she clenched him not only with her thighs but with her pelvic muscles as well. That finished Han. He held the final movement of the stroke, pulled his lips from her mouth, arched his body away from hers, and shuddered to a climax.

When he opened his eyes to look at her, she was watching him intently. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I knew I wouldn't last. You were too much for me." He moved to slide off of her, but she dug in her heels.

"Stay. Stay inside of me. I feel complete with you here. More complete than I have ever felt." A tear slid from her eye, and Han moved a finger to catch it.

"My beautiful, beautiful, Leia. There is no where I would rather be in the galaxy than here inside of you." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "It'll be better next time. It'll last longer, I promise," he whispered. "I was just so tired of waiting for us, I couldn't control it."

She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. "I'm glad you wanted it, wanted me, so badly." She squeezed her pelvic muscles around him again. He was still rock hard inside of her, and though he had only just come, he knew it wouldn't be long until he could go again.

"Here, let me show you something," he mumbled in her ear. Finally pulling out of her, he edged down the bed toward her thighs. Her legs were still open, and he nuzzled the soft triangle of hair.

"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise.

"Shhhh," he answered. "What you wouldn't let me get started on earlier because you insisted on being in charge. Now I'm in charge, so just lie back and enjoy it." He extended the tip of his tongue and poked her tentatively with it.

"Han!" she said in shock. She'd never seen anything like this on a holovid.

He raised his eyebrows high, so she could see over the curve of her own body that he was reacting to her surprise. She arched slightly as his tongue explored her, telling him he had found the right spot. Using his fingers to spread her just enough to expose more of the sensitive skin, he returned to the spot with his tongue more aggressively. She sucked in her breath hard and grabbed for his hair. She pulled hard enough to elicit a grimace from him, but he did not ask her to stop. He knew this was a good sign. He used his whole mouth to suck once, twice, three times and then dropped his tongue to pierce her. Her whole body snapped toward him. He continued this sequence over and over again until she was just on the edge of coming as evidence by the increased pitch of her moans. Feeling like she was nearly there, Han quickly moved back on top of her and thrust back into her, stroking quickly so as to keep up the pace he started with his tongue. She began to shudder and cry out in a matter of seconds.

"Han!" she exclaimed.

"Leia," he growled in response.

The wait was finally over. For both of them.


End file.
